


Vacation Possibilities

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blindfolds, Caning, Cock Cage, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Felching, Fisting, Flogging, Gates of Hell, M/M, Needles, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Sex Toys, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to go on vacation, Rodney and John take the time to really play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacation Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to telesilla, outsideth3box,and djaddict for the betas! Written for the kinked challenge on Dreamwidth.
> 
> **Media Creator**: penny   
> **Link to media**: [Song mix](http://drop.io/47hq2rb7893)

When they'd first gotten together, John had pretended to be vanilla. Pretended that he'd never felt the need for pain, for sensation to push him over the line into screaming pleasure. It had seemed safest. After all, Rodney couldn't be that experienced, and John knew that he was vanilla.

Then they'd been on a mission to MX2 whatever the fuck – it didn't matter since they were never going back. The natives hadn't liked strangers, and saw them as good fodder for the slave trade. Teyla and Ronon had escaped, but John and Rodney had been caught. John had joked that life as a sex slave wouldn't be so bad, but even he had to admit that he was sweating bullets.

They were taken into a small room filled with unfamiliar equipment. It didn't matter, because there were only so many ways you could tie someone to whip them. The "testing" started with him, with Rodney tied in the corner and forced to watch. The sadist who ran this little dungeon was talented. He didn't have any desire to _injure_ the merchandise. He just wanted to know how John would react.

John had tried to resist, but these were the talented hands of a master, and pretty soon it was out of John's hands. Buttons that had gotten placed years before were being pressed, and Kassett laughed, palming John's cock.

"I think you will go to the pleasure houses," roared the man, highly amused at John's reaction.

John didn't really care, hanging from the whipping frame and riding high on his body chemistry. He did care a few minutes later when he heard the sounds of gunfire. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red that had to be Ronon's gun, and then Kassett fell.

Teyla's hands were cool on his face. "John? John, are you well?"

While he was still finding his words to answer her, someone must have untied Rodney, who bulldozed past her. "Sheppard, are you tracking?" he demanded.

_That_ he could answer. "Sort of?"

"Great." Rodney's voice held sarcasm and concern. Hands were busy at his wrists, unbuckling the cuffs. "Ronon. Get ready to catch him," ordered Rodney.

It was a damn good thing he did, because as soon as John was loose, he pretty much collapsed. "We're talking about this back on Atlantis," said Rodney, as he helped Ronon get John steady on his feet. "Can you walk out of here?"

"Yeah." Ignoring the fact that he was naked, and grateful that his cock had gone down, he followed Ronon. Rodney kept one hand on his shoulder, and he told himself that he was grateful, and not scared. He always had been good at lying to himself.

Carson had clucked over the whip marks on his back, thankfully not touching them, because that was a humiliation that John did _not_ need. Instead, he gave John a cream for them. Then came the part that John was least looking forward to – the embarrassing questions part of the examination.

No, he hadn't been raped, just assaulted. No, Kassett hadn't been interested in really hurting him, so he hadn't done more than use a whip to test John's reflexes. He'd failed whatever test the man had been trying to do, judging by his response.

Yes, he knew that he was going to have to see Heightmeyer.

With a final admonishment for John to go back to his room and rest, Carson let him go. John had no plans to obey him though – his room would make it too easy for someone to find him. Instead, he took the transporter out to the farthest point of the city, and went to one of the balconies. He'd never be found here.

Twenty minutes later, the door slid open. He swore to himself as Rodney lowered himself to the ground next to him. "We need to talk," he said without preamble.

"No, we really don't," said John. "You just need to forget what you saw. I don't expect that from you."

Rodney ran a gentle hand over John's back and then pressed down on one of the welts, making white-hot pain and pleasure blossom behind John's eyes. "What if I want to?"

Uh, what? He turned to look at Rodney. "What?" he said out loud. "You're vanilla."

"And you're assuming." Rodney continued to trace that welt, periodically pushing down on it. His other hand lifted and tangled in John's hair, tipping his head to the perfect angle for Rodney to kiss him.

This wasn't Rodney's normally tentative kisses. This was a plundering of John's mouth. Rodney's tongue licked along the seam of John's lips, demanding entrance, and John opened to him. Rodney moved in like he owned John's mouth.

By the time Rodney backed off, releasing John's hair, John was hard and panting. "F-fuck," he groaned.

"Not today," said Rodney. "I want you to see Heightmeyer first, and then we need to have a serious conversation. Then I'll fuck you hard enough for you to see stars."

"Aw, Rodney…"

"No. I want it to be you and me when we talk about this, not you, me, and Kassett."

With a sigh, John nodded. "Fine. But I'm not going to be the only one talking."

"No, you won't be."

The meeting with Heightmeyer went about as well as John expected. She'd wanted him to admit that he was having a problem dealing with it. He just wanted to put it behind him. Finally, with an agreement that he would seek her out if he had any problems dealing with it, he escaped her office. He decided to celebrate by going to the mess and looking for a soda.

Rodney was there with Zelenka, and when John entered, he looked up, meeting John's eyes directly. Not wanting to potentially have this conversation, or any part of it, in public, John grabbed his soft drink and headed over to where Teyla and Ronon were sitting.

"You okay?" asked Ronon.

"Yeah. A little sore," said John. "I think I'm going to give our run tonight a miss."

"Up to you," grunted Ronon, whose attention was returning to his snack.

Teyla reached out and took one of John's hands. "You are truly well."

"Yeah, Teyla, I am. I've talked to Heightmeyer and everything."

"That is good, John," she said. "I am also glad that you have Rodney's support at this difficult time."

John looked around frantically. He didn't know how she knew, but someone might overhear her. But she patted his hand. "I mean as a friend, of course," she added, and John's breathing eased. She winked at him, and he realized that she'd done that deliberately.

Sometimes he really hated Teyla's sense of humor.

He finished his soda and decided that he was going to take advantage of the medical time off that Carson had ordered. Going back to his room, he stripped out of his clothes and lay down on top of the covers. Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths until he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, several hours had passed from the angle of the sun filtering through the curtains. He stretched and then froze as the sound of typing settled in. Turning over, he saw Rodney sitting at his desk, working on his laptop.

"How long have you been there?" he asked.

"About an hour," answered Rodney, as he turned to face him. "You seemed to be sleeping well, so I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks." John sat up, leaning against the wall. The cool metal felt good against the welts on his back.

"You ready to have that talk now?" asked Rodney.

"Not really, but I guess I don't have a choice."

"No, you don't." Rodney closed the laptop with a definitive click, and John suddenly felt pinned in place by the way that Rodney was looking at him.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "I like being hurt occasionally."

"I figured that out, thanks," said Rodney. "The question is: is that all you like? Or do you get off on being dominated, or humiliated? Do you like being made to follow someone's orders? How ritualistic do you want to be?"

"It almost sounds like you know this stuff," said John, surprised.

"That would be because I do, John. You're not the only one with secrets." Rodney smirked at him.

John thought about that. He would have said that Rodney couldn't keep a secret to save his life, but he knew that really wasn't true. He'd been working on Top Secret projects practically his whole life. Maybe it would have been more accurate to say that John thought Rodney couldn't keep secrets _from him_.

But apparently he'd been wrong. "I, uh, I don't know?"

"Let me guess. Back on Earth you'd hit certain clubs, looking for a dom for the night. Someone who'd beat you, get you high on your own body, and then fuck you. That was enough, right? Never thought about hooking up with someone long term because your job wouldn't allow it."

He was surprised at how accurate Rodney was, but then again he _was_ a fucking genius. His voice didn't seem to work, so he nodded.

"Well, you've got someone now. So the question is, do we take this to its potential, or do we let it drop? Stick with the plain vanilla, when we could be adding fudge swirls and peanuts?"

John swallowed. It figured that Rodney would drop this in his lap, wait for his decision. "I don't know."

Rodney stood up and came over to sit next to John on the bed. "What don't you know?" His voice was unbearably kind.

"I don't know if I could do this long term. Back on Earth it was only an occasional thing, you know? When the pressure got to be too much."

John only realized that he was staring at the floor when Rodney took him by the chin and turned his face so that he was looking at Rodney. "And what have you done when it's gotten to be too much here on Atlantis?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to.

"I know what you do. You take stupid risks, or you go and fight with Ronon and Teyla, getting your ass kicked. Or you and I have dirty, sweaty sex. But it's never enough, is it?"

John slowly shook his head. It wasn't. "But what we have together – it's good, isn't it?" he asked, not wanting Rodney to think he was unhappy when he wasn't.

Rodney stroked his hair. "Yes, but it could be better."

There was silence as John thought about it. "Okay," he said, finally. "What do you want me to do?"

Rodney asked him question after question as the afternoon passed. Yes, he liked pain – the more intense the better. Sure, he was willing to try submission, but he didn't think he'd be very good at it.

Finally, Rodney said, "Okay, here's what I've got. You tell me if I'm wrong. You've been whipped, flogged, spanked, fucked rough, but you've never gone to your knees in submission for anyone, even though the idea intrigues you. And the idea of humiliation turns you on."

He paused, but he'd gotten it right, so John didn't say anything. After a moment of silence, Rodney continued. "Here's the problem. Carson examines us both practically every other day. That lets out anything that might leave marks. And you're always on call in case another team needs help, so that means that you need to move freely, so anything too rough is out as well."

John felt as though he'd been given ice cream only to have it turn to brussel sprouts. Was Rodney not willing after all?

"So, basically, we've got dominance and submission, humiliation, and the occasional slap to work with."

Sighing, John nodded. "Yeah."

"I can work with that."

John jerked his head up to look at Rodney. "What?"

"Oh, like I can't use words to draw a picture. You might be reticent to the point of being non-verbal, but I think we'll both agree that that isn't an issue for me."

"I guess." The thought had never occurred to John, but now that Rodney had put it out there, John thought it just might work.

"Shall we give it a try?"

Just like that, John was hard and eager for it. "Oh, yeah."

"Get down on your knees then, boy."

No one had called him boy since just before they shipped out to Atlantis, but John's response was almost pavlovian. "Yes, sir," he murmured as he slid off the bed and knelt at Rodney's feet.

Rodney unzipped his fly, pulling his cock out through the opening. "Suck me, nice and slow."

John obeyed with alacrity, bending his head and sucking Rodney's cock into his mouth. He moved down slowly, taking him inch by inch, until his nose was buried in the wiry hair at the base.

He swallowed, and then began to slide back up. Rodney's hand tangled in John's hair, not pushing or pulling, just a warm presence.

When Rodney began to talk, he thought at first it was normal Rodney sex babble. But as he listened, he realized that Rodney was telling him what he wished he could do.

"Have you ever been caned?" John shook his head as much as he was able. "You should be. I bet your ass would take the color beautifully. It leaves welts that you'd feel for days, so that you'd know that I'd been there every time you sat down. Would you like that?"

All John could do was moan. Would he like it? Hell, yeah. But like Rodney had said, he couldn't do that. Hearing Rodney talk about it was good, though.

"After I caned you, I'd fuck you hard, so hard that you'd feel me in your throat. Get up here, boy, on your belly."

John hurriedly obeyed and watched through slitted eyes as Rodney stripped down. As soon as he was naked, he slapped John's ass, just once. "When I tell you to lie down, I expect your legs spread. Do it." As soon as he'd spread them, Rodney climbed up between his legs. There was the click of the lube opening, and then one of Rodney's fingers slid in. "One day, boy, I'm going to fuck you with just spit for lube. You ever done that before?"

He nodded. He had, a long time ago in another world. He remembered how it hurt and it burned, skin catching on skin.

"I bet you loved it, didn't you?"

This time when he nodded, Rodney smacked his ass again. "When I ask you a question, I expect an actual answer."

He jumped. "Yes! Yes, I loved it."

"I knew it." The finger slid out, and then there was a broad pressure. The head of Rodney's cock popped in and he slid all the way in, making John whimper.

It wasn't – quite – what he remembered from his time in bars, but it was still good. And it was Rodney instead of a stranger, which made it even better.

Each stroke rubbed over his prostate, making him try to push back, get Rodney even deeper. As if he knew exactly what John was trying to do, Rodney grabbed him by the hips, forcing them down as he fucked John with short flexes of his own.

He couldn't help crying out. It wasn't bondage, but he couldn't move. Rodney was making him lie there and take it.

His orgasm was building, in the small of his back and in his balls. He remembered from those far off days and begged, "I'm going to… Can I please come? Please?"

"Go ahead," panted Rodney. It was clear from his breathing that he was getting close as well, but John couldn't worry about that right now, because he was coming, harder than he had in months.

When the lights stopped flashing behind his eyes, he realized that Rodney had stopped and was collapsed on his back. He could barely breathe. Elbowing Rodney in the ribs, he gasped out, "Air."

"Oh, sorry," said Rodney as he rolled off to the side, sliding out of John in the process.

John hissed at the sensation. It didn't hurt, but it was intense. As soon as Rodney settled, John turned over and rested his head on Rodney's shoulder.

"Well, do you think that will work?" asked Rodney, curiosity clear in his voice.

"Fuck, yeah. But one of these days when we're back on Earth, I want you to do what you were talking about."

"You want me to cane you?"

"Uh, huh." John stretched and then relaxed. He could definitely go for another nap.

"Okay, then." John could hear the smile in Rodney's voice. If he said anything else, John didn't hear him.

***

John knelt on the bed, hands behind his back, looking down. He wasn't a patient man by nature, but the last year with Rodney had taught him a lot.

The bathroom door slid open, letting out steam and a naked Rodney. John didn't lift his head, but he did look at him out of the corner of his eye. Rodney's skin was flushed pink from the hot water, and his cock was already hard.

"Good boy," Rodney said as he got close to the bed. He ran his hand through John's damp hair, petting and scratching lightly at his scalp. "I want you to lie down, on your side."

John moaned quietly. On his side meant that Rodney was going to take his time, which meant story time. Shifting around on the bed, he lay down and turned on his left side, pulling his top knee up towards his chest.

Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, and then slowly inside, as Rodney pressed up against his back. "You feel so good inside, all hot and tight," he whispered as he slowly fucked John with just those two fingers. "I love being inside of you."

John pressed back, trying to get him to give him more. Rodney chuckled and pulled back, adding a third finger before sliding back inside. John groaned.

Rodney pressed his forehead against John's backas he leisurely moved in and out of John's ass. When he finally pressed on John's prostate, John jerked in pleasure. "Fuck, Rodney," he said softly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna." The fingers pulled out, and then Rodney's cock was pressing against his hole with a slow, steady pressure. The head slid inside, and Rodney fucked into him with short, gentle strokes.

John wished he didn't have to be so gentle.

"One day, boy, I'm going to bend you over and just _take_ you. Hard and fast, without caring whether or not you come, or if you'll be too sore to run in the morning." Rodney started to move with a long, slow rocking of his hips.

John reached down and pulled his leg further up, letting Rodney in even deeper. Rodney gasped and then said, "After I fuck you, I'll tie you up, so that you're forced to lie there spread-eagled. And then I'll decide – do I want to use the cane? Or maybe the strap, or the single tail? Which would you like, John?" 

The thought of Rodney whipping John - _hurting_ John – for both of their pleasure was overwhelming. John had never felt the sting of Rodney's whip. Rodney had never hit him with anything more than the flat of his hand, but that just made John want it all the more.

Rodney slapped John's ass, hard enough to sting, and John moaned again. "I asked you a question, boy. I want you to answer it."

John didn't hesitate this time. "The strap, please." To feel that sting, the impact of each blow to his ass, to know that he wouldn't be able to sit comfortably…

"The strap it is." Rodney kept fucking him, steady as a metronome, as one hand wrapped around John's chest and the other snaked under his head. "I pick up the strap, and drag it along the planes of your back, down over your thighs, up the crack of your ass."

"When you're lifting your hips into the gentle touch, I lift the strap a few inches and give you a soft slap."

"Yeah," breathed John, eyes closing as he visualized the impact of the strap to his ass. "More."

Rodney chuckled, and pinched John's nipple hard. "You'll get more when I say."

He paused, clearly waiting for John to say something else. When John stayed quiet, Rodney kissed the back of his neck, and then started to speak again. "Every stroke of the strap falls a little harder, a little faster. Your ass starts to redden, heating up under my attention."

John managed to keep quiet, but he couldn't help pushing back, trying to get Rodney to speed up. John's cock was so hard that it was slapping against his stomach on every stroke, and John thought about touching himself for a whole three seconds. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he knew that if he did, Rodney would pull out and get dressed. He'd done it before.

"Your ass is completely red, and I'm swinging hard enough to make you squirm and cry out. Are you hard again, boy? Can you get off with just me whipping you?"

Finally – an actual question! "Yes, yes, I'm hard. So hard, Rodney. I want… I want…" John knew he wasn't making any sense and that Rodney was not a mind reader. He didn't care, because it didn't really matter what Rodney said, or what he did, as long as it was _something_.

"I give you another ten, harder than any others. Then I drop the belt, reaching below you to give you a good place to thrust," Rodney's hand wrapped around John's cock, matching actions to words, and he said. "Come, now."

With a whimper, every muscle tensed as he came hard into Rodney's fist. He clenched down hard on the cock in his ass, drawing a hiss from Rodney. With no warning, he shoved John over on his face and started to thrust hard and fast, until he came with a grunt.

When he pulled out, John moaned softly. Rodney shifted until he was stretched out along John's side, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "I know, John. One day."

The words echoed in John's head. "One day. One day. One day." John had to admit that he liked story time a _lot_. It was the next best thing to being strung up and whipped till he came. He still missed that, though.

He did the best he could to put it out of his mind as he did his day-to-day job. He trained with the marines, Teyla, and Ronon. He did paperwork. He went on missions where sometimes they made friends and sometimes they came running home, their tails between their legs.

Even though "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" had been officially lifted about six months prior, neither he nor Rodney saw any point in going public with their relationship. It was something of an open secret among the senior staff, though, and Elizabeth knew to check Rodney's quarters first if she needed John in the evening.

Carson occasionally teased them, but he kept them well supplied with lube, so that was fine. He'd originally been horrified by the fact that they weren't using condoms, but when John explained that he felt they were better utilized for keeping little ones from making unwanted appearances, he'd grudgingly let it drop.

Teyla and Ronon had made it clear that it was a non-issue as far as they were concerned. John didn't really care about anyone else's opinion of who he was sleeping with, so it was all good.

He was in a good mood, whistling as he walked down the hall. His radio going off wasn't really a surprise – the weekly data burst had come in, and he was avoiding it, since the IOA was the biggest pain in the ass ever created.

"Sheppard here," he responded.

"John? Could you come to my office? We have a bit of a… situation." In the background he could hear Rodney yelling, and his stomach sank to his shoes. This did not sound good.

"I'll be right there," he said, breaking into a jog.

He was at Elizabeth's office within five minutes, and as soon as he entered, Rodney turned to him. "Have you seen this idiocy? I can't be gone from my lab for fourteen days!"

"What?" he said. Rodney just looked apoplectic, arms waving, but no sound coming out of his mouth, so he turned to Elizabeth. "What the hell is going on?"

She sighed. "With the destruction of the Wraith, the IOA feels that it's time to start rotating staff for R&amp;R. All the senior staff – you and Rodney included – have been ordered home for a fourteen day 'vacation.'" She even made the air quotes.

"You've got to be kidding. They want all the senior staff at once?"

"You, Rodney, Carson, and me – as well as a dozen marines and scientists. And the leave is not optional. When we return, our seconds – Lorne, Zelenka, Keller, and Teyla go."

"Wait – they're going to allow Teyla to be alone that long on Earth?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Well, no, and they can't actually make her take _any_ time off, but they are strongly suggesting that she go to the Athosians for the given period."

John sat down at the table with a thump. "I agree with Rodney. This is completely unacceptable. We can't all be gone for that long – things are going to go to hell in a hand basket."

"Regardless of our personal feelings, John, we have no choice. They expect us to step through the gate to Earth tomorrow morning." Elizabeth sat as well, looking exhausted. "Frankly, I think they're afraid of us going native, and forgetting that we're supposed to be obedient to them."

Rodney snorted at that. "If they want obedience, they should get their heads out of their asses."

"Agreed. And yet at ten tomorrow morning, I expect you to be ready to go."

Still looking pissed, Rodney said, "In that case, I need to get to the lab. There are several experiments that I'm going to have to leave in Zelenka's hands, and I need to tell him about them."

"Dismissed," said Elizabeth, and Rodney bustled out of the room. She turned to face John. "Are you going to yell, too?"

"No, I guess not. I suppose I should go let the lucky marines know and brief Lorne."

She nodded, her attention returning to her computer. He left quietly.

None of the marines looked terribly happy about returning to Earth, which didn't surprise John. The marines who were here long term loved the place. Malcontents didn't last long with the _Daedalus_and the _Apollo_ making regular trips to Pegasus.

Lorne looked sympathetic as John briefed him on outstanding issues and problems. They agreed that it would make the most sense to table all non-essential missions until this round of idiocy was over.

As they finished up, Lorne asked, "So, what are your plans for vacation?"

"I have no idea," said John. "I just found out about this about an hour ago – hasn't left me a lot of time to think."

Lorne nodded sympathetically. "Well, I hope you find something that you like to do."

"Me too. Maybe I'll head to LA and do some surfing."

Lorne chuckled. "I'm sure McKay would love that."

John didn't say anything. He just swatted Lorne on the arm with the folder he was holding.

Still laughing, Lorne left.

Sitting at his desk, he wondered. Would Rodney want to go with him? Would they take advantage of the long vacation to do some of the things that Rodney was always talking about? Or would they just continue to have the same sort of (good) sex that they'd been having?

Ah, well. Nothing left to do but to go pack. If he didn't see Rodney by dinner, he'd haul him out of the lab and ask him outright.

Apparently Rodney had been thinking while in the lab, because he showed up just as John was packing the last pair of underwear in his bag. He was wearing one uniform home, but if they wanted him on vacation, then they'd just have to put up with him in civvies.

Rodney grabbed John by the hair and pulled him down into a deep, wet kiss. "I have an idea, and I think you'll like it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Just… trust me, okay? If you hate it, we'll leave, but I think you'll be having too much fun to want to go."

"So where are we going?"

The grin that Rodney gave him was blinding in its intensity. "Los Angeles."

"Cool, surfing," John said, teasing. He figured that that would be the last thing that Rodney would think of, and from the confused look on his face, John was right.

"No, not _surfing_. Well, if you want, I guess we can spend a day or two at the beach. But let me see if I can even get us in – sometimes they get booked up. If I can't, we'll go to the beach and hang out for a while before we can come back."

This was sounding more and more intriguing. So he did the only thing he could when Rodney was like this – he agreed. "Sure."

"I mean, you'll – wait, sure? You're agreeing?"

"Yep."

"Great." Rodney kissed him again, hard, and then said, "Okay, look. I need you to do me a favor. Pack for me? I'm going to have to spend the rest of the night in the lab, wrapping shit up so that it doesn't fall apart while I'm gone."

"I guess I can do that."

"Thanks!" Rodney ducked out of the room, and John went to Rodney's room, pulled out one of his duffel bags and started to pack.

He then spent the night tossing and turning. He had to admit that he was a little nervous about whatever Rodney had planned. He was sure he'd like it - he was just afraid that he'd like it too much.

Ah, well. He forced himself to relax, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Finally, he fell asleep, but it wasn't particularly restful. When the alarm went off at six thirty, it felt like he'd just fallen asleep. He dragged himself out of bed, and was tying his shoes when the chime rang.

Ronon was standing there, looking far too awake and cheerful for how early it was. "Ready?"

"Let me warm up first," said John, stretching and trying to loosen up his stubborn hamstring. Ronon stood there and watched, smiling, as John switched to stretching his calves. "So, you and McKay have any plans for leave?"

"Uh," he said.

"Come on, Sheppard. You know I know, and that I don't care." And John did know that. It still weirded him out, though. It had been his big secret for a long time.

"Yeah, well, I don't know." Ronon opened his mouth to start teasing, and John hurriedly cut him off. "No, really, I don't know. Rodney has some sort of plan, but he hasn't told me what it is, yet."

Ronon's grin got even wider, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he tipped his head towards the door. "Ready to go, Sheppard?"

With one last stretch of his legs, John nodded. "Let's go."

They ran out to the East Pier, as always. Well, Ronon ran. John chased after him, trying his damndest to keep up. By the time they got back to their starting point, he was breathing heavily, and he eyed Ronon with disgust. Ronon, of course, was breathing easily, and looked like he could do it two or three more times. Then again, some mornings he did.

Waving goodbye to Ronon, he headed back to his quarters to take a shower before going to the labs. He peeked in the door and saw Rodney, asleep at his desk, face down on his computer. He chuckled quietly before opening the door and going inside. He stood behind Rodney in case he startled, and said, "Rise and shine, Rodney! You have just enough time to shower and eat before we have to leave."

Rodney sat up, groaning and stretching. "I'm getting too damn old for all-nighters in the lab."

"Yeah, you are," said John. "Did you at least get everything done?"

"I think so." John backed off as Rodney stood up. "Okay, I need a shower. Have you already taken one?"

"Yep. We really don't have time to share one, anyway. Not this morning."

"Spoilsport." Rodney started to walk out of the lab, John following after him. "I'll meet you in the mess in twenty?"

"Sounds like a plan." John split off, heading to his room to grab his duffel. He figured he'd get to the mess early, get a big cup of coffee for Rodney. It might stave off the grumpiness. After grabbing a tray and loading it down with enough food for two people, he sat down with Teyla and Ronon, both of whom had empty trays in front of them. "You guys going to be okay with us gone?" asked John.

"We will be well," said Teyla. "With few missions, and no fear of the Wraith or the Replicators, I expect that the next fourteen days will pass very quietly."

"What she said," Ronon added. "Might even be too quiet. I think I'll set up a new training regime for the marines, if that's okay?"

"That would be fine," said John, and the two of them discussed it for the next few minutes, waiting for Rodney to arrive.

As soon as he got there, Ronon patted him on the back hard enough to nearly knock him over, and then excused himself. Teyla didn't attempt to displace any of John's vertebrae, but she followed quickly enough.

"Was it something I said?" asked Rodney.

"Nah. I think Teyla has to go be briefed by Elizabeth."

"Oh, okay." Rodney started to eat quickly, practically inhaling his coffee.

As he finished up, John glanced at his watch. They had about forty-five minutes before they needed to be in the gateroom. He nudged Rodney with his knee. "Grab your duffel and come with me." When Rodney looked at him questioningly, John just leered at him. Rodney seemed to get the hint, and stood, grabbing his bag. John led the way to a little used storage closet a few corridors away. As soon as the door shut, John slid to his knees. "Can I suck you?" he asked.

Rodney grinned at him. "What? Do you think I'm a fool? Of course you can."

John happily unzipped and unbuttoned Rodney's pants and pulled his half-hard cock through the slit in his boxers. He ran his tongue up it like an ice cream cone, and Rodney went hard so fast that John nearly winced. That had to hurt. But Rodney certainly wasn't complaining as his hand gripped John's head. "Suck me," he hissed.

Since John wanted the taste of Rodney's cock on his tongue, he obeyed, opening wide and swallowing him down. Rodney groaned and thrust a little, causing John to choke.

Rodney didn't seem to care, as he held John's head still and started to fuck his face. All John could do was kneel there and take it. The fact that Rodney was just _taking_ what he wanted made John hard, and he pressed a hand to the front of his pants, against his own cock.

When Rodney started to make the little "Oh, oh, oh," sounds that usually heralded an orgasm, John swallowed around the head of his cock, trying to increase his pleasure. It worked, if the way that Rodney immediately started to come was any indication.

John continued to suck and lick until Rodney shivered and pushed him away. Then he finally stood up, letting the pressure off his aching knees.

He was still hard, still wanting, but when Rodney reached for John's cock, he shied away. "I, uh, I want to wait until we have privacy and time. Can we do that?"

Rodney grinned hugely. "Of course, boy," he said. John wanted to melt, or go back to his knees, but instead he shouldered his duffel bag and waited while Rodney put himself back together and picked up his own bag. Together they stepped out of the closet and headed to the gateroom.

They arrived a few minutes early, and waited as Elizabeth said something to Teyla and then came down, carrying her own bag. Carson jittered to the side and the marines and scientists who were also being recalled for R&amp;R milled around the gateroom as they waited for the clock to say ten o'clock.

John's watch actually read one minute past ten when Chuck started to dial the gate and everyone cleared the space in front of it. The gate whooshed into the room, and then settled into its calm water-like surface.

Up in the control room, Chuck was speaking with his Earthside equivalent, and then he called down, "Shield's down and they're expecting you."

Elizabeth sighed, picked up her bag again, and said, "Let's go, people."

One by one they stepped through the gate. They were met by General Landry, who smiled and directed the marines and scientists directly to the infirmary to be cleared. Elizabeth, John, Carson, and Rodney were sent to the conference room to wait.

As soon as the gate closed, Landry joined them, and they spent the next several hours reviewing everything that had come up in the data streams for the last few months. Apparently, he'd been delegated to make sure that there was no misunderstanding.

Finally he said, "Okay, I've kept you waiting long enough. You need to be cleared by the infirmary, and then you get fourteen days of leave."

While Elizabeth and Carson exchanged pleasantries with Landry, John and Rodney made their escape, heading for the infirmary. Thankfully, the SGC on Earth had more staff than they did on Pegasus, so they'd already cleared most of the marines and scientists. They were waved over to two tables next to each other.

As blood was drawn and things were scanned and DNA was checked, Rodney kept up a low-grade babble about vampires and voodoo that only got more pronounced once Carson and Elizabeth arrived. "I never thought I'd say this, Carson, but I miss the way you draw blood," he said, as the fourth tube of blood was drawn.

"I'll remember that the next time you're bitching, Rodney," Carson said as a nurse cheerfully started his exam.

The results all came back normal - just like John had expected - and they were released. "Where are you going, gentlemen?" asked Elizabeth as they started out of the room.

John let Rodney answer. "To a hotel for tonight while we try to figure out what to do with the next few days. Maybe we'll go surfing."

She grinned at that. "Well, have fun, and I'll see you then."

"Sure." And with that, they escaped.

"I want you to go to the motor pool and see if you can arrange a ride to Denver," Rodney said. "I'll try to find us a hotel."

John obeyed. It took a few minutes, as the two Sergeants in charge of the motor pool were busy chatting and didn't notice him for a little while, but they were apologetic when they finally did. They arranged for a car and driver quickly, and told John that he'd meet them at the entrance.

He returned just as Rodney hung up. "I got us a hotel room," he said, sounding satisfied. "From there I can see if my plan will work."

"Right. And I still don't get to know what the plan is?" John was teasing. He didn't really care all that much, as long as he and Rodney were together.

"Nope."

Just then, the car pulled up, and they loaded their duffels into the trunk of the white Chevy Impala, and climbed into the backseat.

Since they had no idea what clearance the driver did or did not have, they spent the ride talking about baseball. Thankfully, part of the data burst every week carried the scores of various games, courtesy of Cam Mitchell, so John was able to hold up his half of the conversation.

The extent of Rodney's contribution was bitching and moaning about what a waste of time baseball was, and how much better hockey was. As this was an argument they had at least twice a week, John just ignored him. Finally they arrived at the hotel in Denver, and they climbed out. They got their own bags out of the trunk, over the protests of both the driver and the bellboy. John let Rodney check them in, and then followed him up to the room.

As soon as they were in, Rodney gave him a kiss. Then he said, "Change and go for a run while I check on a few things." Now John was really curious, but he could tell by the look on Rodney's face that he had no plans to do anything until John was gone. So he changed into sweats and headed down to the fitness center to see if they had a treadmill.

They did, and he lost himself in the endorphin rush of running for about an hour, until he was thoroughly soaked with sweat, and panting hard. He figured that he'd spent enough time down there, and headed back to the room.

Rodney was just closing his laptop as John came in. "Well?"

"It's all arranged. We fly to LA tomorrow, and we'll be met at the airport. I just ask that you keep an open mind about it, okay?"

"Sure." John went to take a shower. While he was in there, he thought about what Rodney might have planned. He _knew_ that it would be someplace that they would have plenty of sex. He just wondered if it might be something more.

The next morning, they showered, ate room service, and took a taxi to the airport in plenty of time to make their ten-thirty flight. The flight was on time, which was a miracle, and Rodney had booked them first class seats so they had no shortage of room. John tried occasionally on the flight to wheedle where they were going out of Rodney. But Rodney seemed to realize that this was more teasing than anything else, and just ignored him.

They were met in baggage claim by a young woman wearing the fanciest chauffeur's outfit John had ever seen. They collected their bags and followed her to the limo, where a young man sat behind the wheel, also in uniform.

They slid into the back. The chauffeur shut the door, and suddenly the sounds of the airport were muffled and indistinct. There was a glass panel separating them from the driver and his assistant, and when John found the button to lower it, Rodney made a sound of negation. "No cheating," he said.

John grumbled, but let Rodney have his way. There was a bar at the side of the limo, but John wasn't really interested in booze. He did open a coke, which he shared with Rodney.

About forty-five minutes later, the limo pulled up to a gated entry. John watched as the driver waved what appeared to be an ID at the reader, and the gate opened. The driveway was long and curving, and led up to the biggest house John had ever seen.

As they got out of the car, a bellboy came out. There was something about his uniform... John finally realized what he was seeing. The bellboy - and the chauffeur, and his assistant - were all wearing collars.

He turned to face Rodney, who smiled at him. He still didn't say anything, though. He just turned and followed the bellboy in the front door. It opened up to a lobby that would make any five star hotel envious - a long marble counter, with comfortable chairs scattered through the room. The carpeting on the floor was deep and plush. The colors were all muted blues and purples and silvers. It was gorgeous.

Rodney strode right up to the counter, leaving John gawking like a tourist. There was a beautiful young woman behind the desk, and like the others, she was wearing a collar. Rodney was handed an old fashioned key, not a keycard, and then the three of them took the elevator to the fourth floor.

They had a corner room and after the bellboy had left, with a sizeable tip from Rodney, they started to explore the room, which was really more of a suite, complete with a large sitting room. There were the standard amenities, though John was a little surprised at the lube on the nightstand. What he wasn't expecting was a chest in the middle of the floor, with Rodney's name on it. "What's this?" he asked, nudging it with his foot.

"It's a surprise," said Rodney.

"Aw, c'mon Rodney, we're here already. Don't you think you could tell me?"

Rodney thought about it for a minute, and then said, "Why don't you have a seat on the couch?"

Suspecting that he was finally going to get the mystery explained, he sat down. Rodney hefted the chest, and stood there thinking for a long moment. Then he sat it down next to John on the couch. "You have to remember that you promised to give this a chance."

"I know! Now can I see what's in the box already?"

Rodney nodded, and John twisted the latch, unlocking the chest. Opening it, he just stared for a long minute. When he found his voice, he still wasn't sure what to say, but Rodney was standing there, looking more nervous with every second ticking past, and so he finally said, "Well. This is interesting."

"Interesting bad or interesting good?" Rodney was practically wringing his hands.

"Oh, definitely interesting good," said John, and it was that. The chest was full of sex toys, still in the wrappers. His quick glance had yielded dildos and vibrators and what looked like a cock ring, and that was just the first layer. There was clearly more in the box, but there was something more important than looking right now.

He climbed to his feet and stepped forward, putting himself in Rodney's personal space. "Are you planning what I think you're planning?"

Rodney's chin came up. "It depends. Do you think I'm planning two weeks at a kinky house of pleasure where we can play with all the things we've talked about? If so, the answer's yes."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I thought." John was having trouble keeping a straight face, but he managed just long enough to truly make Rodney nervous. Then he let his smile show through. "Sounds like a great idea to me."

"Really?" asked Rodney, sounding surprised. "You know I'm not going to be easy on you."

"Oh, I hope not. But I have one favor to ask. Can we have sex one more time before the games begin? I want to fuck you."

Rodney's face softened with happiness. "Of course. Now?"

"Now sounds like a plan." John wasn't surprised when Rodney tugged him down, kissing him softly. Then he released his grip on John's shoulder and gave him a swat on the ass. "Go ahead. Go to the bedroom and strip."

Instead of hurrying, John strolled into the bedroom, and started to strip. By the time he was naked, Rodney was right there, pulling off his shirt and tripping over his shoes as he tried to get his own clothing off.

Both of them fell down on the bed, which was king sized and comfortable. John waited till Rodney was spread out on the bed, looking like a feast, before he started kissing his way down Rodney's body.

He bypassed Rodney's cock, making him moan, and ducked under his spread legs, propping his thighs on John's shoulders. At the first touch of John's tongue to Rodney's hole, Rodney gasped, "Oh, god," and John could feel the tension running through him as he tried to stay still.

Slowly, John deepened the contact, pushing his tongue into Rodney, opening him up, and getting him wet and ready. He kept it up till Rodney finally relaxed, moving with John's mouth.

Only then did John pull back and say, "Give me the lube."

Rodney twisted a little desperately, grabbing it off the nightstand and putting it in John's hand. John knelt up, wiping his face off with his hand, and then slicked up two fingers.

The rimming had loosened Rodney up to the point that they slid in relatively easily. John couldn't look at where his fingers were pressing into Rodney's body, because that would make him come. Instead he watched Rodney's face.

Rodney was sweating and squirming, lips moving in what was probably begging. When John curved his fingers up, pressing on Rodney's prostate, the begging became louder. "F-fuck. Fuck me. Please fuck me..."

"Okay," said John, unable to hold back any more. He pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock. Pressing the head to Rodney's hole, he pushed until it popped inside, earning a whimper from Rodney.

"You okay?" John asked.

"Fine. Would you fuck me already?" If Rodney could form coherent sentences, then John wasn't doing something right.

With a push, he sank all the way into Rodney's body, making him cry out and his shoulders come up off the bed. John braced his hands on Rodney's biceps and pushed him back down at the same time he started to rock in and out of Rodney's body.

Rodney got the hint and relaxed into the bed, letting John slip in that extra half inch. John released his grasp on Rodney's arms and started to fuck with long, deep strokes. Every one brought him closer to the edge, made him want to come just a little more.

Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around Rodney's cock and started to jerk him in time to his movement. That got him some absolutely wonderful sounds, and when he started to twist his hand on the upstroke, Rodney groaned, "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah, go ahead," said John, milking Rodney's cock through his orgasm. The clenching of Rodney's body pushed him ever closer, and as soon as Rodney finished coming, he pushed in _hard_, one, two, three times, and let the feeling wash over him, through him, coming with a shout.

John pulled out gently and then fell to the side. "I think I need a little nap," he said, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Rodney turned to face him, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay. And when you wake up, we'll talk about what the next two weeks are going to be like."

He thought he nodded, but he was too tired to be sure.

He woke up to the sounds of Rodney moving around the hotel room and the smell of real, honest-to-goodness steak. "Rodney?" he croaked out.

"Awake?" asked Rodney as he came into the bedroom. "I ordered dinner. Go get cleaned up and then eat it while it's hot."

It took John a second to get his bearings, but he managed to figure out which way was up without too much difficulty. Heading to the bathroom, he took a quick shower, and then went to go look for some clothes.

Rodney, who was dressed, said, "Sit down."

"Just as soon as I get some shorts on. Jesus, hold your horses."

He was a little surprised when Rodney rocketed out of his chair to grab him by the hair. His voice was low and menacing when he said, "I said, 'sit down,' boy."

John sat down. It felt weird to be naked when Rodney was dressed, and it was weird to be sitting down naked to eat. "First rule," Rodney said. "There is no reason for you to wear clothing in the suite, so you won't."

"But - " John started to argue, even though he didn't really object. He didn't want to just give in.

"No buts, John, unless you want this to stop before it starts? I like looking at your body, and you will let me." Rodney looked serious, almost pleading.

"Okay, I guess," said John, doubtfully. "It just feels kind of unhygienic."

"Trust me, John, these rooms get the hell cleaned out of them between guests." Just like that, Rodney was back to being cheerful. "Eat! Your food is getting cold." As if by example, Rodney took a big bite of his baked potato.

They were quiet as they ate. The food was excellent, but the only thing to drink was water, which surprised John. He knew that Rodney liked beer as much as he did.

"No beer?" he asked.

"Nope. We're going to _talk_ after dinner, and I want us both completely sober."

John nodded his agreement, mouth full of steak. Sounded reasonable enough. Even if he didn't want to talk, ever, if he could avoid it. Given the circumstances, he wanted to make sure both of them were clear.

They finished up their meal, and as soon as Rodney had placed the tray in the hall, he motioned John over to the couch.

"I know we've talked about toys, and pain play, and dominance, and all that stuff. There hasn't been a single thing that I've talked you through that you've balked at. But here we're playing for real, not just words. So, first off, pick a safeword."

"I don't want one," said John. He wanted to be forced to take whatever Rodney would hand out, wanted it to be out of his hands.

Rodney laughed. "Nice try. Pick one or we check out now."

"You're serious about this?" John asked, amazed. He knew from hearing just what Rodney would like to do to him, that Rodney was a sadist. He'd kind of expected Rodney to jump at the chance.

"Deadly."

"Fine. I, uh." He didn't want to use red. That had been used in too many seedy bars. "Atlantis?" he said, making it a question, seeking Rodney's approval.

"Atlantis it is. You say that, and we'll stop whatever we're doing, okay? Here are the rules. You don't like one of them, _you tell me now_. I won't change the rules on you in the middle."

John nodded and listened intensely. He'd never had a top for more than a night except for Rodney, and they didn't play with more than words back in Atlantis. Here, he expected he'd get in trouble if he messed up.

"You'll follow my orders, though you can ask questions if I'm unclear. You won't come without permission. If we leave the room – and we will – you will be wearing something to remind you that you're _mine_. That might be a cock ring. That might be a plug. It depends on my mood."

John nodded. He thought he could handle that.

"I know that you've played in public before. Is that something that you'd be interested in doing here? They have a _very_ exclusive club attached to the hotel, where no one will look twice when I tell you to kneel. Hell, they won't look twice when I order you between my legs and tell you to suck me off."

He was breathing heavily at the thought. The idea that people would see him with Rodney… oh, fuck. That sounded good. He nodded again, but this time Rodney leaned forward and slapped his cheek lightly.

"The rules from Atlantis still apply. I expect an _answer_ when I ask a question."

"Yes, oh, yes. That sounds…" His voice trailed off. He didn't know how to explain it.

"You like the idea of everyone seeing you as my boy, don't you?"

That was it. "Yeah."

"Okay, one last thing." Rodney put the chest on the coffee table and started to pull stuff out it. John could feel his eyes getting bigger and bigger as more and more toys were heaped on the table. Finally Rodney found what he was looking for.

It was two strips of leather. One was clearly a collar. The other John wasn't sure about. "I want you to wear these unless you're going to get wet."

He nodded eagerly. He really wanted this, so when Rodney said, "Kneel," he slipped to his knees as quickly as he could. He met Rodney's eyes as Rodney fastened the collar around his neck. Then Rodney said, "Give me your wristband."

John had been wearing it for so long he usually forgot about it. He pulled it off and handed it to Rodney, who put it on the coffee table, next to the toys. The leather was wrapped around his wrist, and buckled.

Somehow he felt even more naked than he had before. The collar and the wrist cuff emphasized it in a way that John had never experienced.

He moaned softly and bent so he could rest his head on Rodney's thigh. Rodney chuckled hoarsely and started to pet his hair. "Do you want to be a pet, boy? No decisions, no responsibilities outside of doing what you're told?"

He nodded. Given the duties that he carried most of the time, being free of responsibility sounded like heaven.

Rodney said, "Well, first things first – I have _plans_ for you."

"Oh?" John said.

"Yep. Let's go in the bathroom." Rodney detoured past the suitcases and got out his shaving kit.

John hadn't noticed earlier, but the bathroom was huge. The shower looked like it was big enough for a fucking orgy, not just two men. Rodney patted the counter. "Up, and spread your legs."

When Rodney pulled out his razor and shaving cream, John couldn't help tensing up. "You want me shaved?"

"Yes, and after today I expect you to take care of it yourself. Keep yourself nice and smooth."

John swallowed. "All right." He spread his legs, and watched as Rodney wet down his pubic hair with a soaking wet washcloth.

He spread the shaving cream, and then began to shave with careful strokes. As more of John's skin was exposed to open air, he started to get hard. Rodney flashed him a quick grin, but just pushed his cock out of the way to shave around it.

Rodney got him to scoot forward, so that his balls hung down, and then crouched as he started to shave those as well. John knew that when the hair grew back, it was going to itch like a motherfucker, but that didn't change how intense it felt to have Rodney's hands on him like this.

By the time Rodney finished, he was fully hard. Rodney ignored his erection and pointed him towards the shower. "Take a nice, thorough shower. Get really clean."

He was already turning on the water when Rodney said, "And no jerking off." John thumped his head against the tile wall, making Rodney laugh.

The hot water felt good on his body, and he relaxed into it. As it ran down over where his pubic hair used to be, he moaned a little. Without that hair, he felt everything more. He finally got out of the shower when he was starting to get wrinkled from the water. He dried off and went to the living room, where Rodney was reading a magazine.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, leaning over Rodney's shoulder. Rodney snapped his fingers, pointing at the floor, and John sank to his knees.

"I'm looking at some of the physics journals, trying to see how very wrong everyone is." John nodded. He'd heard the argument every time the _Daedalus_ docked, bringing new journals. Since nothing was getting out, the physics journals were getting it wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

But John didn't feel like kneeling there and waiting for attention. Rodney had called him a pet, and so he was going to act like one. He heatbutted Rodney gently in the thigh.

"Cut that out," said Rodney, mildly.

John did it again.

Rodney gave a theatrical sigh and set aside his journal. "You're going to keep this up till I pay attention to you, aren't you?"

John gave him the biggest, cheesiest grin he could. "Yep."

"Fine. We'll play." Rodney stood up and went over to a door that John had noticed earlier, but hadn't tried to open. It opened easily under Rodney's hand.

It was dark inside, but not so dark that John couldn't see the canes in the stand by the door, or the floggers hanging from the ceiling.

When Rodney spoke, John had to drag his attention away from the closet, and the promise implied. "You pick a toy out of the chest. I'll pick one from in here."

"Sounds good to me." John knelt up so that he could dig around in the box. He bypassed most of the cock toys, and hesitated over a Wartenburg wheel, but ultimately came up with a medium sized plug.

"Good choice," said Rodney. He was holding a strap in his hand, and John gave a happy little shiver. It was so close he could smell the leather.

"Go unwrap the plug and wash it. Bring back the lube with you."

John climbed to his feet and rushed to the bathroom. The plastic was easy enough to remove, and he washed the thing with soap and hot water. He detoured past the nightstand and grabbed the lube, and then went back to the sitting room.

Rodney was settled on the couch, and he said. "Get over here, boy. Across my lap."

It was a little awkward at first, but John finally got settled into place. Rodney plucked the toy and the lube out of his hand, and then started to tease him with the dry tip. He ran it over John's cheeks, down the crack of his ass, over his thigh. John was already hard, and the prolonged teasing was making him even harder. He had no problem with begging, though. "Please, sir. Please!"

The toy pulled away from him, and then John could hear the slick sounds of lube being applied. The tip, wet now, pressed firmly against his hole, and John realized that Rodney was going to make him take it with no prep. "Yes," he moaned, spreading his legs even wider in invitation.

Gradually the plug slid in, and damn, John hadn't thought it was that big. He felt it stretching him and stretching him, and finally it slid all the way in. His ass clenched tight around the narrow neck, and he felt full. Rodney continued to pet him for a moment, and John realized that he was letting John adjust to the feel of the toy inside of him. It had been _years_ since he'd experienced the lack of give in a toy, and he was grateful for the time.

"You have a choice, boy," Rodney said, as his hand stroked through John's hair. "Do you think you can hold still while I beat your ass? Or do you want me to tie you?"

Rodney wanted him to _think_? Not fair! But it was a reasonable question, and John did his best to weigh his choices.

He decided quickly. "Tie me? It's been a long time, and I want to be a good boy for you."

"You're going to need to stand up, then." Rodney said.

He had to struggle to get out of Rodney's lap. The plug inside him shifted and moved with him, and the feeling was disconcerting to say the least.

When he was standing, Rodney went back to the closet and pulled out a set of heavier cuffs. John went to his knees without being told for Rodney to fasten them in place, and then stood when Rodney pulled up on them.

Rodney led him to a hook in the wall that he hadn't noticed before, and looped the chain connecting them over it. It was just high enough that John could stand comfortably, but there wasn't a lot of give in the arms.

Then Rodney stood back, and ran the strap over his ass, softly, just letting John feel the leather. "Ready for warm up?" asked Rodney.

"Sure," said John, and true to his word, the first slap of leather against skin wasn't more than a tap. It still startled John, who jumped.

Rodney waited for him to settle, and did it again. And then again, a little harder.

It took him fifteen strokes to actually be putting any force behind the blows, and John could feel his ass warming under the leather. Then there was a pause, and Rodney said, "Okay, warm up is over. You ready?"

John nodded and wiped his forehead off against his upper arm. He took a deep breath, and as he let go, Rodney let him have it. He hadn't been joking, either. This was no little love tap. This was Rodney using the considerable muscle in his arms and shoulders to make John hurt good.

He was determined not to cry out. He didn't want Rodney to think he couldn't take it, but as it went on, he couldn't hold the sound behind his teeth any longer. He gave a shout as the next one landed, and then there was no holding him back. He hung in his chains and cried out, letting Rodney know that it hurt, but in between he was begging for more. He could feel the endorphins kicking in, and he groaned at the overwhelming feeling.

"Yes, yes, yes," he chanted, trying to get Rodney to keep going even though his arm must have been getting tired by now.

In response, Rodney started to swing harder. John had long since lost count, but as they fell, he finally went silent, lost in his head, all mixed up between pleasure and pain. Then there was no more pain, the strap back to resting against his ass. The leather felt cool against the heat of his skin. Over the sudden silence, he could hear Rodney panting for breath.

He heard the strap hit the floor, and Rodney pressed his clothed body up against John's naked one. He reached around John and wrapped his hand around John's cock. John hadn't been aware that it was hard, but oh, god, it was.

Rodney jerked him off expertly. "Go ahead, John. Come all over the wall. You know you want to."

With one last groan, the orgasm that had been building exploded, leaving John in free fall back to earth.

Rodney continued to hold him up as he recovered. He finally opened eyes that he didn't remember closing and said, "'m all right."

"I'm sure."

John started to laugh, unable to stop it. The endorphins floating through his system were the good shit.

"Yeah, you're fine," said Rodney. "Up on your toes."

John complied, and Rodney unhooked him from the wall. Turning around, his eyes dropped to Rodney's pants, which were bulging in the front. "Hey, you're hard!"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Why, yes, yes, I am. I'm a sadist, remember?"

He couldn't stop himself from going to his knees. "Let me suck you?" he begged.

There really wasn't any question that Rodney was going to say no. He unzipped his fly with shaking fingers, and pulled Rodney's cock through the gap in his shorts.

He didn't try any fancy tricks, or to go slow. He just lowered his head and sucked, hard and deep. Rodney groaned and caressed his hair. "So good, John."

John kept it up until Rodney's hand clenched tight and he came deep down John's throat. Then he licked his cock clean and sank back on his heels - only to come back up with a yelp.

Rodney was grinning down at him. "Forgot how tender your ass was going to be, hmmm?"

There really wasn't any good answer to that, so John ignored it. Instead he focused on closing up Rodney's pants. When Rodney moved back to the couch, he followed, kneeling at his feet. Rodney picked up his journal and resumed petting John with the other hand.

He'd never been able to kneel for very long, but Rodney knew that. "Go relax, John. We're going to the club later, and I want you well rested." John stood up, and Rodney said, "Oh, wait. Bend over and put your hands on the couch."

John obeyed, and Rodney tugged the plug out of his ass. He hadn't even realized how sore he was until it was out. He took the toy from Rodney, gave him a kiss on the mouth, and said, "I'll go wash this."

Once he was finished, he wasn't really tired, but he didn't want to sit on the couch, either. So he decided to go watch TV in the bedroom area. He turned it on and flipped it around until he found a baseball game. He didn't really pay attention, but the noise was comforting.

He didn't even notice when he fell asleep.

He woke up to Rodney rubbing his shoulder. "I fell asleep _again_," he said, incredulous. He couldn't believe how much he'd slept in the last two days.

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised. Between emergencies and missions, you don't get a lot of sleep in Atlantis."

"Well, what about you?"

Rodney just grinned. "I must need less sleep than you do."

John gave him a shove, laughing.

When they both had calmed, Rodney said, "So, ready to go? Or do you just want to stay in?"

He wanted to be with Rodney, whether that was here or in public. But he kind of felt like going out, and besides if they stayed here too long, he'd get cabin fever.

"I want to go," he said. Standing up was painful, as it pulled on bruised skin, but he managed. Then he paused. "I assume I can get dressed?" he asked.

"Yep."

John went to his duffel and pulled out black jeans and a black t-shirt. Setting them on the bed, he went into the bathroom, where Rodney was already showering. He knocked on the wall, and Rodney looked up. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked.

With a smile, John climbed in and ducked under the spray to get wet.

Once they were clean, John pulled on his clothes and fussed with his hair. If Rodney had asked, he would have said that he just wanted to look hot. The reality was that he wanted to look good for Rodney. He didn't ask.

Once he was dressed, he sat down on the couch, waiting for Rodney, who was trying to pick clothes. Sitting was painful, but John had always liked that feeling, knowing that he'd been whipped thoroughly.

Finally he was dressed and he came out, looking over John. He whistled. "Very nice. Now stand up and drop your pants."

"Yes, sir," said John, remembering one of the rules. He was always going to be wearing something under his clothes to remind him of who he belonged to.

Rodney was sorting through the chest quickly, muttering under his breath. "Aha," he said, coming up with a leather cockring in his hand. He then started to wrap the cockring around John's cock and balls, snapping it in place.

John couldn't help it. He started to get hard at the way that Rodney was fondling him. Rodney just smiled and tugged up John's pants, refastening them carefully so that none of the goods were caught in the zipper.

Then Rodney swatted John on the hip and said, "Let's go." John had never worn a cockring before, and so following Rodney was a little weird. He couldn't have ignored it if he'd tried.

They took the elevator to the lobby and then they walked to what looked like a restaurant called "Elevations."

And the front part _was_ a restaurant. Only a few people were scattered about eating, though. "You hungry?" asked Rodney.

John shook his head, inexplicably nervous. "I just want to go."

"Okay." They passed under an archway, and into a well-lit club. It made it easy for John to see the young man tied to the St. Andrew's cross, getting expertly flogged by a young woman. Rodney tugged him over to the bar.

"Two Molson's," ordered Rodney, and when they came, he handed one to John, who couldn't stop staring. "What do you think?"

"I just got here, Rodney," grumped John. "It's pretty... bright in here, isn't it?"

"You're used to doing this in dark, smoky clubs, I take it?" Rodney asked.

John nodded.

The bartender was close enough to hear Rodney's question and he chuckled. "The owners don't see anything to be ashamed of - everyone here is a consenting adult, and most people are regulars. They come to watch, to play, and to maybe have a few drinks. Why hide what you are in the dark?"

"Exactly," said Rodney, pointing at him

"Speaking of regulars, you're not. I'm Randy," said the bartender, holding out a hand.

Rodney shook it, and then motioned towards John. "I'm Rodney and he's John," he said.

John shook his hand when Randy offered it to him. He noticed that Randy – unlike the rest of the staff he'd seen, wasn't wearing a collar. "Hey, can I ask a question?"

"Sure." Randy smiled. It lit up his whole face, making John aware of just how attractive he was.

"Why aren't you wearing a collar? Everyone else seems to be."

"I don't belong to the owner," said Randy. "I'm not his type."

"You mean everyone I've seen is actually collared?" This surprised John. He'd been assuming that it was just part of the uniform.

"Yeah. But it's just the front staff. The people who work in the back, like housekeeping and such, aren't."

"Why aren't you his type?" put in Rodney.

"Oh, I'm straight, vanilla, and monogamous with my girlfriend. But the money's good and the people are interesting, so I stay."

"Huh," said John, not really sure what else there was to say.

Rodney took a look at his face and started to laugh. When John frowned, confused as to why Rodney was laughing, he sobered just as quickly.

"Look, John," he said, taking pity on him. "This is a mixed club – gay, straight, top, bottom, or vanilla, everyone is welcome as long as they're respectful. It's _why_ I like this place."

The more John heard, the more he liked the sound of the place. He nodded at Rodney. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Turning back to Randy, John said, "Thanks for the information. And the beer."

"No problem." An attractive woman came up to the bar a little ways down and Randy excused himself. John and Rodney picked up their beers and made their way to a small table in the corner. The chairs were padded and soft, so John could sit with a minimum of discomfort.

He wasn't really surprised, because he could see the man who had been being flogged sitting with his top, drinking water. The padded seats would make that a lot more comfortable.

Rodney leaned in and lowered his voice. "I'd like you to get comfortable being here, because we're going to spend a fair amount of time. Sometimes, we'll just sit and talk, and sometimes we'll play. Is that okay with you?"

Mouth dry, John nodded. He quickly took a sip of his beer. One of the things he'd liked about dark and smoky clubs was the way that his expression was obscured from people who were just casually watching.

Here, they were going to be able to see _everything_. He wasn't sure that he liked that idea. On the other hand, there was something about being _known_ that seemed kind of seductive. He thought he just might like it.

Rodney's hand settled at the back of his neck, his thumb brushing the short hairs there. He didn't ask anything or say anything, as though he knew that John was thinking.

Eventually, John said, "You know, I think I like the concept of this place. I'm just not sure about the execution for me."

Rodney nodded. "I understand. We'll just take it a step at a time, then, okay?"

John nodded again, and they quietly drank their beers.

When they'd finished, Rodney sent John over to the bar to get another couple of beers. It was clear that they weren't going to play tonight, and that was fine. John was still wrapping his head around the whole concept.

When he got back to the table, the couple he'd observed earlier was sitting at the table. Rodney introduced them as Tim and Mackenzie, and while Tim smiled and shook John's hand, Mackenzie held back until Rodney nodded.

"First time here?" asked Tim.

"Is it that obvious?" John took a sip from his beer.

"Well, yeah. We're here three to four nights a week, and we didn't recognize you."

"Oh, okay." John wasn't quite sure what else to say, so he turned his attention to Mackenzie and Rodney, who were making small talk about what they did.

Tim watched as well, and John winced when Rodney proclaimed certain types of doms insufferably stupid, expecting Mackenzie to get upset and leave.

Instead she laughed lightly. "Nah, just poorly educated. If they'd just admit that they had a lot to learn, they'd be better off."

"True. But the fact that they stubbornly believe that they're right even as they're _breaking_ subs left, right, and center is the problem. I wouldn't care if they weren't hurting anyone."

"Yeah, it's an issue when people are getting hurt in bad ways," Mackenzie agreed.

Tim jumped in at that point. "So are you two together?" he asked. "Or just hanging out?"

"No, we're together and we're going to be staying at the hotel for a while, so you'll see a lot of us over the next couple of weeks." Rodney smiled, and rested a hand on John's shoulder.

It was odd. Rodney was clearly claiming John, though in a mild, understated way, and John wasn't used to it in public. He didn't shrug it off. The weight of Rodney's hand was comforting, actually.

"Are we going to get to see you play?" Mackenzie asked.

"Probably. Not tonight, though. John is getting used to the way the place runs, and besides we played earlier today."

"Rodney," John whispered fiercely, embarrassed that Rodney had just told these relative strangers that.

"Oh, shut up, boy," Rodney said in response. "Or I'll have you show them the strap marks."

John was surprised when he went blindingly hard inside the cockring. They'd played a little with humiliation back in Atlantis, but never combined with exhibitionism, and the combination was heady.

He bowed his head, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't want Rodney to know what it was doing to him.

It didn't work. Rodney studied him for a minute and then said, "Stand up."

John couldn't help the whimper in the back of his throat as he obeyed. He knew he could stop this with one word, but he didn't say it. Instead, he stood, and at Rodney's order, turned around and pulled down his pants so that Mackenzie and Tim could see the strap marks on his ass.

Face flaming, he pulled them back up and went to sit, only to have Rodney say, "Kneel, boy."

He hit the floor before he'd even decided to obey. His knees ached from the impact, and his ears were ringing with embarrassment and he was hard enough to tent the front of his jeans.

"He takes color beautifully," said Mackenzie.

John didn't hear an answer from Rodney, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that he was kneeling at Rodney's feet. He crept forward on his knees and pressed his forehead against Rodney's thigh, seeking reassurance.

He got it. Rodney started to stroke through John's hair as he continued to talk to Mackenzie, and John just let himself drift. The cockring kept him hard, and he focused on that feeling.

Finally Mackenzie and Tim got up and left the table. Rodney put one hand under John's chin and lifted until John was meeting his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, showing the first bit of uncertainty that John had ever seen in him since they had started this.

"Oh, yeah," he said. He shifted again, pressing even firmer against Rodney's leg.

Rodney flashed a quick smile and said, "Let's go up to the room."

John had no idea how long he'd been kneeling there, but it had clearly been a while, because it took both of them to get him back to his feet. Walking was a little uncomfortable, as he was still hard, but they managed to make it back to the elevator.

Once they were back in the room, Rodney ordered, "Strip and bend over the couch."

John hurried to obey. Once he was in position, he was more than happy to feel Rodney pressing up against his ass. His clothes were rough against John's bruised ass, and he moaned at the pleasure/pain.

"You know what?" asked Rodney conversationally.

"What?" John was more than a little breathless.

"I've wanted to do this since we started sleeping together." There were the sounds of slick being applied, and then Rodney's cock pressed against his hole.

With one rapid push, Rodney was inside, making John cry out. It burned so good, stretched John in all the right places. Rodney didn't give John a chance to adjust, or a reach around. He just said, "If you can come, come. If not, you'll wait."

Given the way that Rodney was pounding into him, John couldn't get a hand down to touch himself, and he was still held tight in the cockring. There was no chance of him coming; even though he was so turned on he could barely breathe.

He whined and begged for Rodney to touch him, but Rodney ignored him, rutting away to his own completion. When he pressed tight against John's ass and came, John whimpered. His cock was hard enough to pound nails.

Rodney pulled out, and said, "Go clean up and get ready for bed."

John couldn't help it. His hand went right to his cock, pressing on it ineffectually. "Please, sir."

Rodney bent and removed the cockring. "Did you come while I was fucking you?" asked Rodney with a smirk.

"No, sir."

"Then I guess you're shit out of luck. If you jerk off, I won't let you come for the next three days, so you'd better not. Now do what I told you."

Walking was downright painful, but John obeyed, going to the bathroom to brush his teeth and clean up. He was still hard when he got into bed, waiting for Rodney to join him.

Rodney climbed into the other side, and tugged on John till he was laying on Rodney's shoulder, his still hard cock pressing into Rodney's leg.

"When can I come?" asked John, a little desperately.

"Not until I let you," said Rodney. "We've already talked about this. Now, you're going surfing tomorrow, so I suggest you get some sleep."

Surfing? Rodney was letting him go surfing? That was pretty cool. Moving a little closer, John closed his eyes, and thought about today. Somewhere between the strapping and the baseball game, he fell asleep.

The next morning he woke before Rodney. Deciding that he needed to go for a run, he debated waking Rodney to get permission. He decided that the collar was sufficient and went to get dressed.

It was the same girl at the front counter, and she glanced at his collar before she said, "Good morning, Mr. Sheppard."

He was impressed, since he hadn't actually spoken with her the day before. "John, please," he said. "Is there somewhere I can run?"

"Yes, of course." She directed him to the fitness area in the basement. It was simple enough to find, and other than a woman running on the other treadmill, empty. She glanced at him, and then looked away without a word.

He stretched and then started to run. Without Ronon there to pace him, he went a little slower than usual, but still managed to run for a solid forty-five minutes, until he was pleasantly tired and sore.

The woman had left a few minutes earlier, so he decided to take his time cooling down. It would be downright stupid to injure himself in the bad way while he was here.

When he returned to the room, Rodney was still asleep. John slipped into the bathroom, where he stripped, and took off his collar and wristband. It was odd how comfortable the leather was after only a day.

He took his time in the shower, including checking to see if he needed to shave again, but he was still mostly smooth. Deciding it was good enough, he dried off, put the collar back on and left the bathroom.

Rodney was awake, and after a quick close-mouthed kiss, took John's place in the bathroom. He took forever, but then again, he always did. While John waited, he called down for room service, pleasantly surprised that a place this fancy offered southern sausage gravy and biscuits. It wasn't good for him, but he ordered it anyway.

It wasn't until Rodney had come out and gotten dressed - thankfully before the room service guy got there - that John realized that he wasn't allowed to wear clothes. After Rodney had signed the check and sent the waiter on his way, John asked, "Hey, can I wear clothes if someone is coming into the room?"

"No." Rodney put the dishes on the table. "The staff here are used to seeing people in all states of dress, but when I said 'No clothes in the suite,' that's exactly what I meant. Be thankful I don't make you strip down in the hall."

John opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut at the look on Rodney's face. It was clear that he meant it.

"Yes, sir," he said softly.

"Good boy," Rodney responded. "Come here."

John obeyed, knowing that being a good boy usually meant good things. "Did you wear your collar down to run?" Rodney ran a hand over the leather.

He nodded, swallowing. Rodney's fingers were tracing the edges, lightly trailing over skin.

"Good. Let's sit down and eat, and then we'll talk about you going surfing."

He didn't have to be told twice - he was starving and the sausage gravy smelled _amazing_. Rodney's scrambled eggs and bacon looked pretty good too.

They ate in comfortable silence. For once, John finished first, and sat there patiently as Rodney finished his own breakfast.

"Come here and kneel, boy," said Rodney, and John obeyed, going to his knees between Rodney's spread legs.

"Here's the deal. I have no interest in the beach, or in surfing, so you can go without me. There's a beach where you can rent a surfboard about twenty minutes from here. You may have the car take you there. You need to be back by six for dinner."

"I won't tell you you can't flirt, since you do that like breathing. What I'm going to do is make sure that you're reminded that you're mine all day long. Now, open your mouth."

John did as he was told, not surprised when Rodney stood and pulled his cock out of his pants. He was a little surprised when Rodney basically shoved it down John's throat with no warning. John couldn't help reaching up and grabbing Rodney by the hips, trying to control his thrusting.

 

Rodney smacked his hand. "Put them behind your back, boy, or I'll cuff them there."

On the one hand - yes! cuffs! On the other, John didn't want to lose his surfing. So he folded them behind his back, squeezing tight so that he wouldn't forget and bring them forward.

Rodney resumed fucking his mouth. The head of his cock went into John's throat on every stroke, cutting off his air, but he finally managed to time it so that he was able to catch a few breaths. Rodney was going too fast for John to be able to do anything to make the blowjob better - no swallowing around Rodney's cock, no licking or sucking. All he could do was kneel there and try to breathe.

He was a little light headed when Rodney pulled out. He stroked his own cock hard a few times before saying, "Close your eyes."

Realizing what Rodney meant to do, he shut his eyes just as the first warm drops of come hit his face. He could smell it, he could feel it, and when he licked his lips, he could taste it.

The first touch Rodney's fingers to his face startled him. Instead of wiping his face clean, though, they started to rub the come into John's skin,

"Wha -?"

"I want you smelling me all the way to the beach, so you know exactly who you belong to."

John's stomach was doing strange little flips, but he ignored them in favor of pressing his face into Rodney's palm.

Rodney didn't let him stand up until the come had started to dry, pulling and strange on his skin. Finally, Rodney tugged on his arm, pulling him to his feet. "One more thing."

Dragging John over to the couch by his hand, Rodney started to go through the chest, pulling out a rubber ring.

John realized what it was fairly quickly. "Please sir, I can't surf with that on."

"Why not?" asked Rodney, meeting his eyes.

"Because I can't move right. It throws my gait off, and all I can think about is my cock instead of keeping my balance."

Rodney thought about it, balancing the ring on the palm of his hand. "Okay, you have a choice. Ring now, and you get to come at the club, or no ring and I may not let you come at all."

For a second John's breath caught. Apparently they were going to play at the club tonight. Then his brain caught up to what Rodney had said. "That's not fair!"

"I never said I was fair. Take it or leave it, boy."

John knew that it would be a short day at the beach with the ring, and he _really_ wanted to surf, dammit. "No ring," he said sullenly.

"That's fine. You can earn your orgasm later, maybe," said Rodney. "Of course, if you're going to pout like a fifteen year old kid..."

He nodded, deciding that that was the best he was going to get. "Can I go get dressed?"

"Sure."

John went and pulled out his swim trunks and a t-shirt, and put them on. He took off his collar and wristband and grabbed his wallet. With a kiss for Rodney, he ran down to the front desk, where it turned out that a car was waiting.

He didn't want to be carted around like some fat cat, so he sat up front with Greg. They talked about surfing in different parts of the world for the twenty minutes it took to get to the beach. Greg had never been to the Big Island in Hawaii, but John had never been to Fiji.

"What time are you supposed to be back?" asked Greg. It was the first time that it was even implied that John belonged to someone, and he had to admire how gracefully it was done.

"Six - how bad is rush hour around here?"

"It can be pretty bad. I'll pick you up at five fifteen so that you aren't late." With that, Greg pulled up to the small building that was renting surfboards and lockers.

John locked up his wallet, picked out a board, and went to ride the waves.

It had been a long time since he'd gotten to surf with other people, and it was better than he remembered. The surfers in the water got into an informal contest without ever speaking a word, one that led them to greater heights and challenges.

He ate lunch at the little shack, but he had to admit the seafood wasn't as good as the rusig from Atlantis. It still satisfied the grumbling in his belly.

After resting long enough that he didn't feel overfull any longer, he went back out. This time he just lost himself in the pattern of swimming out, catching the wave, and hopefully riding it to shore.

He wiped out a few times, but he thought he'd been doing pretty well for the far side of forty. When he finally had enough, it was about four thirty, so he returned the board and found an outdoor shower to get the worst of the sand and salt off. Picking up his wallet, he went to find a bench to sit and people watch for a while.

It was weird. He lived in the ultimate closed society - there were only about five hundred people, and he could identify all of them. He was used to being responsible and in charge, but he'd effortlessly fallen into obeying Rodney. He spent some time wondering why, but couldn't come up with an answer before Greg pulled up, right on time.

Greg had been right. There was more traffic on the way to the hotel, and John was nervously watching the clock as they fought to get there. They pulled up at five fifty seven, and John jumped out of the car, shouting his thanks as he headed inside and pounded up the stairs.

According to his watch, it was six on the dot as he walked in the door, and Rodney was waiting for him. "Cutting it mighty close there," he said.

"Did I make it on time?" asked John.

"Yeah." Rodney stood up and came over, leaning in to kiss him. "You're a mess," he said.

"Yeah, salt water does that to my hair," said John, unrepentant.

"Well, go get cleaned up. We're going downstairs again tonight, and I think we're going to play."

That was all it took - John was instantly hard at the thought of playing in public. "Okay," he said breathlessly.

He hurried off to the shower. He had to wash his hair over and over to get all the sand and salt out of it, but finally it felt clean. He discovered that he had sand in some very awkward places and it took time to get those clean as well. Finally he was done, and he went out to the other room naked and still a bit damp.

Rodney was holding his collar as he came into the living room. Without being told, John went and knelt at Rodney's feet, lifting his chin so that Rodney could fasten it in place.

"Can I take it that you want to go tonight? Anything in particular you want to do?"

John held up his hand so that Rodney could fasten the wrist cuff. "I don't really care. I just want to fly."

"Fly, huh?" Rodney smiled. "I think I can arrange for you to fly, but you have to be patient. Can you do that?"

"Who do you think I am? Of course I can be patient." John grinned as he said it, knowing it for the lie it was.

"Well, first we need to eat dinner, and I want to finish off what I was working on, before we can go down. So here's what's going to happen – you're going to order food, and leave me alone till it gets here. Yes, that means that you'll answer the door naked."

"Uh…" John thought about objecting.

"What's the problem, boy? You're going to spend the evening naked in the club while people watch you be hurt. This should be easy."

"It's - " John hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain it.

"Yes?" Rodney waved his hand in a hurry up gesture.

And suddenly John had some words. "When I'm being hurt, I'm not thinking about other people. I'm not worried about someone looking at me. I'm too busy _feeling_ to think."

"Hmmm..." Rodney appeared to be thinking about what John had just said. "I think we're looking at this vacation as two different things. You're seeing it as a vacation with frequent scenes. I'm seeing it as one long scene. You are _my_ boy, and I want to show you off. Whether that's in the club, or answering the door, you're mine. That's why the collar - and why you're not just wearing it during scenes."

"Can you accept that, John? If not, then we'll do it your way, because I want you to enjoy this too."

John hadn't thought about it like that. He closed his eyes as he tried to sort through how that made him feel. Safe, he decided. It made him feel safe.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay, what?" Rodney said, and John finally realized that Rodney looked a little upset. "I want us to be really clear on this, John."

Dropping to his knees, he nuzzled up close to Rodney. "I'm your boy, the whole time we're here."

He was surprised when Rodney went to his knees as well, seeking out his mouth and kissing him deeply. Then he said, "No, John, you're my boy always."

John couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around Rodney and just held on, until the butterflies in his stomach settled.

When he let go, Rodney said, "Okay. Dinner. Something light." They both climbed to their feet, Rodney a little wobbly, and went their separate ways.

John found the room service menu and ordered, and sat on the couch, trying to think through everything that was happening. He found himself stroking the collar meditatively, and thought, a bit hysterically, that Teyla would be proud of him.

When the knock came on the door, he answered it, trying to pretend that he was wearing pants. He didn't need to bother - the waiter never looked below his neck as he brought in the food and John signed the bill.

They ate quietly, and then moved to the couch to digest before going downstairs. Rodney turned on the TV, flipping until they found a mindless sitcom, and then said, "Get over here. I want to play with you."

John didn't hesitate, scooting down the couch and leaning into Rodney's space. He was a little surprised when Rodney tugged on him till he climbed into Rodney's lap.

He was taller than Rodney, and stronger, but Rodney had the bigger build, and he made John feel protected as he held him so that they could kiss. One of Rodney's hands drifted down between his legs, wrapping around his cock and stroking it gently.

Back home in Atlantis, it wasn't unusual to go two or three days between nights with Rodney - sometimes even a week if things were crazier than normal. But here - it had only been a day since he came and he was already crazy for it.

As Rodney touched him, he lengthened in Rodney's hand. One of his hands clenched into a fist behind Rodney's back as he tried to catch his breath. The other petted Rodney's thigh. His hips shifted restlessly as he tried to get Rodney to touch him harder. "Please," he begged.

But Rodney didn't cooperate. If anything, his touch got lighter, slower. "You're going to hold it for me, boy," he said. "You're going to hold it till I tell you to come. If you're lucky, it'll be tonight. If you're not, you'll wait."

John groaned. He already wanted to come. If Rodney played as hard as John wanted him to, not coming was going to be harder than he thought he could manage. "I - I - help?" he said.

"You think you won't be able to obey me?" asked Rodney, still touching him, making it hard to think, never mind hold back an orgasm.

He nodded, having trouble forming words.

"Will a cock ring be enough?"

He shook his head. All a cock ring was going to do was slow him down. He didn't think that it was going to actually stop him tonight.

"Okay," said Rodney. "Shift over." He let go of John's dick, and John reluctantly moved off his lap, so that Rodney could go to the chest.

He dug around inside of it for a minute and came up with something that clinked. "All right. In order for this to work, you need to be soft. Do you need a cold shower?"

"I don't think so." John closed his eyes and imagined the most disgusting things he could think of - the sewage system in Atlantis, a Wraith cocoon, Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day, and finally his cock went down.

"Very good, boy," said Rodney, and John had been so focused he hadn't even realized that Rodney had come back. "Stand up, and spread your legs."

Rodney's hands moved quickly, sliding a series of rings onto his cock. The first - and largest - went around his balls as well. The feel of Rodney's warm hands started to undo John's focus, but just as he completely lost it, Rodney said, "There."

John looked down at his cock, which was imprisoned in a Gates of Hell. It was still possible he'd come, but this would hold him back better than a simple ring.

"Thank you, sir," he said.

"You're a good boy for telling me you couldn't handle it," said Rodney. He gave John a kiss, fondling his ass at the same time. "I thought about plugging you as well, but I think I'll want to fuck you hard later. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yeah," said John.

"Good." With a slap to the cheek that he was holding, Rodney said, "Jeans only. Don't bother with anything else."

"Yes, sir." Moving was difficult. The Gates made his cock heavy and thick, and it swung with every step in a way that his cock didn't normally.

But he made it to the bedroom, and slid into the tightest jeans he owned. Buttoning them and zipping them shut, he sighed in relief when they restrained his cock from moving, letting him walk a little smoother.

Rodney was still in the jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier, but when John asked about it, he said, "No one's going to be looking at me anyway."

They went downstairs together, and this time John didn't hesitate, walking through the restaurant and making his way to the bar. He waited for Rodney to order, though, and wasn't really surprised when Rodney ordered them both bottled water.

Randy smiled and gave them the bottles without question. John didn't really notice much more than that, because he was too busy looking around the club.

He hadn't noticed earlier but it was Friday, and that meant the club was much busier than the night before. The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and pain, and smelled like sex. The combination was heady, making John squirm.

Rodney took him by the arm and led him to a table in the corner. But when John would have sat, Rodney said, "I want you to kneel, boy." It was still hard for John to be submissive in public, but the look in Rodney's eyes when he went to his knees was worth it.

"Drink your water and just relax," said Rodney. "I want play with you a long time tonight."

"Rodney, I can't kneel for that long," said John in a fierce whisper.

"I know exactly how long you can kneel, and you'll stay there until I say you can get up, boy."

John opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Rodney's eyes reminded him that he still wasn't guaranteed to come tonight, so he closed it again.

They hadn't been there long before Mackenzie and Tim joined them. "Hi, Rodney," Mackenzie said. She pointed at the floor, and Tim slid down gracefully, staring at the floor. "Will you be playing tonight?"

"That's the plan," said Rodney. "How about you guys?"

"Oh, definitely," said Mackenzie. She half-turned in her seat and waved her arm at a couple of women at the bar. "Tamara!" she called.

The two women who joined them were complete studies in opposites. Tamara turned out to remind John of Teyla in appearance and confidence, even if she was dressed as a professional businesswoman.

The other woman, who Tamara introduced as Jenny, was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her long hair loose around her face. Jenny was wearing a collar, but instead of Tamara making her kneel, she stood behind Tamara, reminding John of a page out of a knight's story. As he shifted on his knees, he wished he could change position - if not people - with her.

Rodney, Mackenzie, and Tamara were soon in a conversation about the club, and the various toys and paraphernalia that was available to play with. John glanced at Tim, who was still in the exact same position, staring at the floor, and then up at Jenny. This part of being submissive _sucked_.

Just as John thought that he was going to have to interrupt Rodney, because his knees couldn't take it anymore, Rodney leaned down and said, "Get up, boy."

John couldn't quite get his legs under him and he was embarrassed that he needed Rodney's help to get up.

"You and Jenny go get bottles of water for everyone," said Rodney, and then he turned back to Tamara, clearing dismissing John from his attention.

It wasn't Jenny's fault that Rodney was being an ass, though, so he smiled at her. It was a smile that had stood him well on a thousand worlds, and Jenny grinned back at him.

"You're trying to get me in trouble," she said as they ordered the six bottles of water.

"Nah," said John. "Maybe I'm trying to get _myself_ in a little bit of trouble, though."

She ran one hand down John's bare chest. "Trouble is seriously underrated, I've found. Take Tamara - she tells me that she likes me to be a good girl, but if I were good, we wouldn't have as much fun as we do."

John knew exactly what she was talking about, even if he wasn't comfortable saying as much. He couldn't help glancing at Rodney out of the corner of his eye, though.

Tamara and Rodney weren't paying any attention to them.

He couldn't help but fume silently. Wasn't Rodney supposed to be there with John, dammit?

Jenny smirked at him, and it was a disconnect to see Rodney's expression on another face. She didn't move her hand, though. "How long have you and Rodney been together?" she asked.

"About two years," said John, which was true as far as it went, but he knew that they'd been together a lot longer than that - they'd only been sleeping together for two years.

But someone not on a SGC team wasn't going to understand that, so instead he turned it around. "How about you and Tamara?"

"Oh, five years, give or take." She finally moved her hand, gripping his wrist instead.

He noticed Rodney looking at him and frowning, so he tried to unobtrusively take it away from her. She let go with a smile. "They've noticed, huh?"

"Uh, huh," he said, watching Tamara get up and headed in their direction. "She doesn't look too happy with you," he said.

"Oh, good." Tamara got there, and wrapped her hand in Jenny's long hair.

"Trying to get my attention again?" she demanded.

"Yep," said Jenny with a sunny smile. "Did it work?"

"Oh, you brat," said Tamara, with such affection in her voice that John's breath caught. "Just going to have to remind you that you're mine."

With that, Tamara tugged on Jenny's hair gently, leading her away. John stood at the bar uncertainly for a minute. Then he squared his shoulders, gathered up four bottles and went back to the table.

Rodney looked up long enough to meet John's eyes. "You won't come tonight," and then returned his attention to Mackenzie. They opened their bottles and continued to talk, leaving John standing there, not sure if he should kneel or just wait.

Before he finally got up the initiative to ask, Mackenzie had excused herself, snapping her fingers at Tim, who followed her without a word.

"Follow me," said Rodney, leading their way to a shadowed door in the back of the club. It led to small rooms with doors. Opening one, he ushered John inside. "We need to talk," he said.

"No, we don't," John said sullenly. "If you don't want to play, I'll just go back to the room."

"The only way that's going to happen is if you safeword. Now, what the hell happened out there?"

"What, you've never seen two people talk before?" said John snottily.

"I have. I've also seen you flirt, and that was you flirting. Were you just trying to piss me off?"

"Maybe." John knew that he'd been doing exactly that. If he hadn't wanted to piss Rodney off, he would have stopped Jenny as soon as she touched him.

"Then talk to me, John."

"I don't _want_ to talk. I just want to play. If you don't feel like it, just tell me, but don't get me all wound up and then leave me hanging!"

Rodney's mouth was hanging open and suddenly John wondered if maybe he'd been reading the situation wrong. "You weren't trying to leave me hanging?"

"Uh, no. It was just... you on your knees makes me hot. I thought it did for you too."

"It does! Well, it does when I have your attention, but not when you're ignoring me."

"Okay, well," Rodney rubbed his hands on his thighs. "I owe you an apology and then a punishment."

John couldn't have heard that correctly. "A punishment? For what?"

"Two things. One, if I'm doing something you don't like, you don't just sulk, you _safeword_. That's what you have the damn thing _for_. And no matter how mad you were, you shouldn't have been flirting with Jenny. That... I don't like seeing you flirt, and you know it."

John thought about it for a while. "Okay, I see your point. I promise to tell you if I'm unhappy, okay?"

"Okay. And I'm sorry that I misread the situation so badly."

John nodded, accepting the apology. Rodney reached out and pulled John towards him slowly, and their lips met in a soft kiss. It doesn't take long to grow more forceful, though.

When their lips parted, John moaned softly. This was more like it.

"John? You have a choice. I can punish you in our room, or back here. Or we can make it public in the other room."

"Would you have to make it obvious that I'm in trouble?" John wanted the feeling of being on display while they played, but he didn't relish having people think he was being punished like a kid.

"No - they'll just think that we're playing hard. Don't even ask to come, though."

John groaned again, but the look on Rodney's face made it clear that he meant it. "Fine. I won't ask."

"Okay, let's go see if there's anything open out there."

When they got back to the main room, Rodney started examining the various places that he could tie John. Watching Tamara and Jenny, though, fascinated John. Jenny was tied face up, and her breasts were being flogged with a short flogger. She was begging and crying out for more, and it was hot enough to make John swallow hard.

He had to admit that mixed clubs were unusual in his experience. Usually the ones he went to were for gay men, and so he'd never seen two women outside of porn. It was a lot hotter in real life.

He startled when Rodney dropped a hand on John's shoulder. "Hot, isn't it?" he asked, softly.

John nodded without saying anything. What was there to say?

"C'mon. You'll like what I found."

He followed Rodney over and discovered that the St. Andrew's cross was available. At Rodney's directions, he shimmied out of his jeans and leaned up against it, letting Rodney fasten his wrists and ankles into place. He was a little surprised when Rodney added a thick leather belt, but as he wrapped it around John's middle he had to admit it was a good idea – it would keep him from shifting too much.

He turned his head to watch Rodney as he went to the middle, and pushed a lever, causing the whole thing to shift, taking John with it. He ended up lying on his stomach, spread eagled.

Before he could say anything, Rodney reached under him to adjust his cock, so that it was hanging free in the V that the wood made and wasn't caught under him. He took a deep breath at the feel of Rodney's hand, but he didn't beg. He'd promised.

Rodney came up to his head, holding a black piece of fabric. He bent down and kissed John, and then wrapped the fabric around his head.

John hated being blindfolded, and Rodney knew it. But he was going to be stubborn, and he could handle being in the dark. He could. Even if it was damn scary. Suddenly, Rodney wasn't touching him, and he had to swallow down panic. He counted to ten, and when Rodney hadn't started touching him again, he called out, "Rodney?"

"Shh, boy," said Rodney from right next to his head. "I'm right here."

"Oh, okay."

But John continued to pant until Rodney laid a hand on his back, and said, "Breathe, boy. In. And out. And in. And out."

When John slowed his breathing to match Rodney's words, he started to relax. He could do this. He could.

"Okay. We're going to start," Rodney said, trailing his hand down John's back and over his ass.

This time when Rodney lifted his hand, John focused on his breathing. Five breaths later, the strands of a flogger tickled his ass.

Rodney dragged them over John's ass, down his thighs, up between his legs so that they touched his balls. When it lifted, John braced himself, only to find himself a little disappointed at the light touch that he got.

Each blow from the flogger got progressively harder. He tried to push back into them, but with the belt around his waist he couldn't move at all.

The _thud_ of the flogger was hot in its own right. Combined with the darkness, the only thing that was keeping John from coming was the Gates, still on his dick. But with them in place, he couldn't even get fully hard, not that his body didn't _try_. The little sting of his cock being rubbed by the metal rings added to the heat that was starting to build in his ass.

He was starting to drift, losing himself in the sensation, when it stopped. He moaned, and could hear Rodney chuckle. "We're not done, boy. Settle in for the long haul."

All John could do was nod, so he did. The flogger that came back was heavier, made of a different material, and he moaned as it came crashing down on his ass.

As Rodney hit him over and over, John found muscles that he didn't know were tight relaxing. Even the small discomforts of being strapped in place started to fade away, in favor of the heat that was building in his ass.

"Please, don't stop," he moaned, not sure if he made any sense, but trying to get Rodney to understand that he was loving this.

Rodney was _good_. The flogger never wrapped, never went above the crack of his ass. It was possibly the best flogging he'd ever gotten, but that might have just been the endorphins speaking.

He didn't really care. All he cared about was that Rodney was hurting him, in really good ways.

This time, when the flogger stopped, John just waited patiently, sure that if he did, something good would happen.

The press of leather against his ass made him whimper. The shape made him think of old-fashioned school paddles. "Okay, boy, I want you to count off for me," said Rodney.

John whimpered. Counting meant that he couldn't get lost in his head, that he'd have to stay more focused in the here and now. This had the potential to really hurt.

And with the first slap, he knew was right. It hurt. _A lot_. He cried out, and then sucked in air to say "One."

"Count faster, or I'll think you'll need another to remember what number we're on."

John couldn't answer before the paddle slapped into him again. "Two!" he shouted.

"Three!"

"Four!" Tears were tracing down his face. He could feel them, but couldn't stop them or hide them, so he just let them go.

"Five!"

"Six!"

The paddle stopped, resting on his ass. The leather felt _amazing_ next to the heat of his ass, and he groaned. "You in there, boy?" Rodney said.

Tears were still running down his face, but he felt better than he had in a long time, completely relaxed and loose.

Rodney moved the paddle, and John could hear it being set down on a table. "I'm going to untie you now," said Rodney, and he started with the strap around John's waist. Then his ankles were freed and his hands, and Rodney helped him slide off and to his knees.

John could smell Rodney, smell his sweat, and then Rodney said softly. "I want you to suck me."

Nodding, John opened his mouth. He heard Rodney unzip his pants, and then Rodney was shoving in, fucking John's face. John was so relaxed he just let it happen, over and over.

He moaned around the cock in his mouth, swallowing as Rodney shoved the head into his throat. It didn't take long before Rodney thrust in extra deep and came, shooting so deep that John could barely taste it.

John clung to Rodney's leg after he pulled out, trying to keep his balance. It was hard, since he was pretty sure that his head had floated away. The sounds of soft applause brought it back down to earth with a thump.

Rodney's hands were busy at the back of John's head, distracting him. "Close your eyes," Rodney said.

Obeying was easy. The hard part was opening his eyes in the relatively bright light after the pitch black of the blindfold. He managed, just in time to see the small crowd surrounding them dissipating.

"Rodney?" he asked, confused.

Rodney hooked his arms under one of John's and helped him climb to his feet. "Yes?"

"Were they watching us?"

"Yes, John." Once John was steady on his feet, Rodney let him stand for a moment while he picked up John's jeans. He bent over, letting John hold on to him as John stepped into the legs.

"Why were they watching us?" John had never had an _audience_ before.

"Because you took that beautifully. Do you want to sit or kneel?" Rodney was steering him to a nearby chair, but there was no way that John was going to sit right now. When Rodney let go he slid to his knees. Looking up, he saw the look of affection that Rodney got sometimes. It did funny things to his insides.

"Are you tracking?" Rodney asked, crouching in front of him.

"Hmm?" asked John, unclear on what he meant.

He was too occupied trying to see whose hand was on Rodney's shoulder. Following it back with his eyes, he saw Mackenzie. "Take him up to your room," she said.

"I need to clean up -" Rodney hesitated.

"You need to take care of him more. I'll take care of it tonight." Then Mackenzie turned her attention to John. "You were beautiful," she said.

Rodney looked confused, but not mad, so John decided to count that as a win. "Thank you," he said to Mackenzie, but he was looking at Rodney.

"If you're sure," said Rodney.

"Go, go," she said, "Before he turns into a puddle."

Once again, Rodney pulled him up, and guided him through the club and to the elevators. There was another couple in the elevator, but they just smiled at them.

John smiled back. Right now, everything was good in his world. Floating, he followed Rodney's guidance as he led John back to the room.

The door opened, and Rodney didn't stop, taking John straight through to the bedroom area. He got John out of his jeans, and then helped him lie down.

"Lie down with me?" asked John, wanting the contact to keep from floating away completely.

"Of course," said Rodney. "Give me a second." He hurriedly stripped out of his clothes and sat down on the bed before curling around John's back and wrapping an arm around his middle.

John relaxed into the embrace. It was good. It was better than good. He could let the endorphins flood through his system, drifting and content. He thought he could sleep like this.

Except that Rodney was waking him up. "Turn on your back," he said softly.

John obeyed, whimpering softly as his ass came in contact with the bed. Tomorrow he was going to hurt. But Rodney's deft hands were on his cock, working him out of the gates of hell.

As the last ring slid off, John got hard. He forced his eyes open and looked hopefully at Rodney, but he remembered his promise and didn't ask. Rodney just chuckled. "Not a chance," he said. "Maybe tomorrow, with my cock in your ass."

Thinking that being fucked sounded good, John just obeyed Rodney's nudge to roll back onto his side, and this time nothing interrupted his drift to sleep.

He woke up in the middle of the night, and yeah, he'd been right. He hurt. A lot. He managed to get out of the bed without waking Rodney, and went to the bathroom, pulling out some Advil from his shaving kit and taking two. He turned around so that he could see his ass in the mirror.

It was starting to bruise in the center of the cheeks, where he'd taking the brunt of the paddle, but most of the red was gone. He didn't hurt unbearably but he was definitely going to feel it in the morning.

He pissed and washed his hands before he went back into the bedroom. He could see Rodney's eyes glittering in the dark. "You okay, John?" he asked.

"A little sore," said John. "Not too bad."

"Good." Rodney held up an arm. "Now come back to bed."

John obeyed, sliding into the bed and humming with contentment as he settled on his stomach. The sheets were soft, and the faint ache from his ass reminded him of the intense scene the night before.

As he shifted, trying to get comfortable, he started to get hard. He turned his head to look at Rodney, who sure seemed to be out like a light. So John slipped a hand down to touch himself, just a little, just lightly.

"If you don't stop, I'll put you in a chastity belt," said Rodney, without ever opening his eyes. "They didn't provide one here but I know exactly where we can go to get one."

John whimpered a little. "You wouldn't," he said.

"I would. I like knowing you aren't coming unless I let you."

Hurriedly moving his hand, he tried to ignore the way that the conversation had his dick perking up. He didn't want Rodney to have that kind of control. He really didn't.

Rodney sat up and leaned on one elbow, his eyes meeting John's. "I hadn't thought that was something you were interested in. If you are, we'll go in the morning."

Whimpering in answer, John curled in tight against Rodney. Maybe he did want him to have that much control.

"Sleep, John."

"I can't," whispered John. "Too horny."

"Ah." Rodney turned and twisted, and then came back with the lube. "I guess if I'm going to lock your cock in a cage for a few days, it would be better if I let you come first." He handed the lube to John. "Open yourself up."

This wasn't the first time that Rodney had expected John to prepare himself. He still found it embarrassing, though. He thought the dark might help, but as his first finger slid in, Rodney's hand traced a path down his ass, and to where he was touching himself.

He whimpered and added a second finger. When they were moving easily he said, "I'm ready."

"Good," said Rodney, as he turned on his back. "Ride me."

It took John a little bit of maneuvering to figure out what he was doing, but pretty soon he was sliding up and down Rodney's cock. Every time his ass slammed into Rodney's pelvis, he gasped as pain flared, shooting tendrils up his spine and out towards his fingers.

Rodney's hands locked on his hips, guiding him into a slower motion. Up and back, slow, gentle. And Rodney started to whisper; "Tomorrow I'm going to take you up the coast to this little store I know, where they sell the equipment to lock this beautiful cock up."

His hand wrapped around John's cock, and he groaned. "Do you like that idea, John? Knowing it doesn't matter whether you want to obey or not, because your cock is under _my_ control?"

John nodded frantically. He did want that. Rodney's hand squeezed tighter as his other hand encouraged John to rock faster. His orgasm was twisting up his spine, and he didn't try to hold back much.

Rodney said, "You gonna come for me?" as his hand moved up and down John's cock, and with a harsh cry, John said yes, his orgasm boiling out of him.

He somehow managed to keep moving until Rodney froze underneath him, coming deep in John's ass. Then he basically collapsed forward, counting on Rodney to catch him.

"Oof," said Rodney, turning the two of them. Rodney's cock slid out of John's body, and John whimpered in response. "You really want that," whispered Rodney.

John nodded, a very embarrassed but not so embarrassed that he'd deny it.

"We'll go in the morning. Sleep now," said Rodney decisively. Just like that, his eyes were shut and his breathing evened out.

It took longer for John to get to sleep as he stared at the ceiling, breathless with want.

Once again he woke before Rodney, and he slid out of bed, determined to run. He was a little sore, but not so sore he couldn't move.

This time he just waved at the counter girl on his way past to the fitness room, and she giggled and smiled. He wondered if she'd been one of the ones watching him be paddled the night before.

Dismissing it from his mind, he found an open treadmill and started to run. Today there were more people in the room, which made sense, since it was Saturday. As he ran, a young guy set up on the treadmill next to him. John wasn't paying any attention, until he spoke up. "I watched you last night."

John had never talked to someone who watched him be beaten before, so he wasn't sure what the correct response was. "Uh, okay," he said, for lack of a better response.

"I didn't think that that was very fair. The way that he didn't let you come," said the man, which caused John to be so surprised he stumbled. The machine stopped, and John turned to look at the other guy in surprise.

He clearly took this as some sort of invitation to chat, because he said, "Hi - I'm Vince," holding out a hand for John to shake. John shook it on autopilot and then started to run again.

"What's your name, pretty?" asked Vince.

John thought about not answering him, but what the hell. "John," he said. Deciding that he'd had enough of Vince, if not enough of the run, he said, "If you'll excuse me, my partner will be waiting for me."

Vince smiled and nodded, but there was something greasy about it.

Putting the whole weird exchange out of his mind, he went back up to the room, and into the bathroom to shower. He was reluctant to take the collar off - it was comforting - but leather plus water would be bad.

After the shower, he took the collar and wrist cuff out to the living room, where Rodney was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee. Kneeling in front of him, he held still while Rodney attached the collar and the cuff.

"Do you still want it?" asked Rodney abruptly.

John didn't have to think. He knew exactly what Rodney was talking about. "Yes!" Then he thought that maybe Rodney _didn't_, so he gave him an out. "Unless you don't want to."

"Go get dressed," was all Rodney said, and John ran off to pull on jeans and a black t-shirt. Rodney was already dressed in baggy khakis and a blue short-sleeved t-shirt that made his biceps look bigger.

The car was waiting for them, and this time John willingly sat in the back, talking with Rodney quietly. He didn't mention Vince, because he hoped that he'd be able to avoid him for the rest of their vacation.

The drive only took about twenty minutes, and then they pulled up to a small brick building. John followed Rodney's lead into the building, and when the door opened, he saw it was a huge toy store.

The boy behind the counter looked up as they entered. He had more piercings on his face than John had ever seen. It was more than a little cool. "Can I help you folks with anything?"

"Uh - " said John.

"Yes," said Rodney. "We're looking for your male chastity devices." John immediately blushed firetruck red. He couldn't believe that Rodney was so open about this stuff.

The kid led them to the fourth aisle, pointing down it. "Try about halfway down," he said.

Rodney thanked him, his mind clearly already on his goal. John followed in his wake, stopping short at the sheer number of items on display. There were the expected cock rings, and gates of hell, both of which John had worn in the last few days. He couldn't see spending extended amounts of time in either, though. That would hurt and not in the good kind of way.

Rodney wasn't looking at them anyway. He was examining something called a CB 6000. Curious, John picked one up off the shelf. It looked like it was hard plastic, which would keep him from getting hard. It locked to a ring that went behind his balls, and the whole thing was "Guaranteed to work." He snorted and sat it back on the shelf.

Except that Rodney wasn't putting his back. In fact, he'd put his in the basket that he'd picked up from somewhere. "That's what you want?" he asked, surprised. There were other chastity belts, he saw, but Rodney had gone right for that one.

"Yeah," Rodney smiled at him before he turned and walked away, headed for an area labeled overhead with "Sharp things."

"John, have you ever done needle play?" asked Rodney a few minutes later.

He shook his head. "Nah. Not safe to do with a stranger."

Rodney stopped and met his eyes. "And with me?"

John actually stopped and thought about it. After a little bit, he said, "I think I'd at least try anything you wanted me to try."

"Good answer," said Rodney, and he grabbed a couple of bags of hypodermic needles, throwing them in the basket.

They explored the store, throwing the occasional item into the basket, but the hotel had done an excellent job of stocking them, so there wasn't much they didn't already have.

"I've been meaning to ask," John said. "How did the hotel know what to provide?"

"When I set up the reservation, I filled in a checklist. They send their staff to fill that checklist - probably to this store, actually."

"And the whips and stuff?"

"Standard to the room and cleaned between guests. Why?"

"Just curious." John debated asking his last question, but what the hell. "How much is all of this costing you?"

"Nothing I can't afford," said Rodney flatly.

"Can I at least pay half?"

"No."

"But - "

"It's not open to discussion," said Rodney. He detoured past the lube display, picking up something called _Probe_.

"What's that for? We've got plenty of lube."

"This is thicker, better for bigger play." Bigger. Rodney wanted to put bigger things in him. He wondered if Rodney would want to try fisting him. The idea excited John enough that he didn't notice that Rodney was paying until he said, "Come on, boy. Let's go."

On the car ride back, Rodney said, "Come here." John was already sitting next to him, so he just gave Rodney a blank look. Rodney sighed and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him close enough to kiss.

"Oh," said John, feeling stupid for a second. Then Rodney kissed him again, and he forgot to think about it. Rodney's tongue pushed in, deep and possessive, and John wanted to melt into it.

They kissed all the way back to the hotel, and when the car pulled to a stop, John realized that he was practically in Rodney's lap. Stopping kissing to get out of the car felt wrong, but they did it anyway.

This time it was John who led the way to the room, practically at a jog. It was a good thing that there was an elevator already on the lobby floor, or he would have probably dragged Rodney up the stairs.

As it was, the elevator seemed to move in slow motion before it finally got to their floor. As soon as they were back in their room, John was wrapping himself around Rodney, pleading for more kisses with his body, kisses that Rodney seemed happy enough to provide.

They managed to get to the couch without tripping over anything or stopping, and they went down with John on the bottom, Rodney stretched out above him.

Rodney planted his hands on John's shoulders and held him in place. "What's gotten into you?" he asked.

John didn't know how to say that no one had ever bought toys just to use on him before, or put that much thought into what they were doing, or just made out with John in the back of a moving car without caring who could see them. He didn't know how to say any of that, so he strained upwards, trying to get his lips back on Rodney's.

Rodney said, "Fine, then," but he didn't sound upset. Besides, he started to kiss John again, so that made him satisfied.

For a long time the only sound in the room were the slick sounds of lips on lips, tongues rubbing together, breath being stolen. It turned John on, but it didn't even occur to him that there was a problem with that - until Rodney went flat, pressing him down.

"You keep doing that and this is going to be over very quickly," Rodney grated out.

Honestly confused, John looked up at him. "Huh?"

"Keep those hips still," ordered Rodney, and then they were off again. Kissing and kissing and kissing until John's lips felt swollen and raw, and then they kissed some more.

Finally, Rodney pulled away, dropping two soft kisses on John's lips in apology. "This is good, but I can think of things that would make it better."

"Oh?" John had been told before that when he arched like that, he looked like sex incarnate. Rodney just laughed.

Laughter was good, too, John decided, and grinned back. Rodney rolled off of John, and incidentally, off the couch, landing on his knees on the floor. He clambered to his feet and took the bag, saying, "Take off your clothes and wait for me," as he went off to the bathroom. John assumed he was washing toys.

When he came back, he was holding the pieces of the cockcage. John was sitting on the couch, gently stroking his hard-on, and he said, "There is no way you're getting that on me like this."

"You're right," said Rodney. "I suggest you make the hard-on go away, because we're not playing with anything else until you do."

John pouted. "You're no fun." But he obediently closed his eyes and started trying to think of unsexy things. It was hard, when he could still taste Rodney when he licked his lips.

Finally, Rodney said, "That'll do. Come here." Rodney was sitting on the chair, and John stood up and came over obediently. "Hands behind your head, and keep them there," said Rodney.

He obeyed, but he said, "Uh, Rodney, if you want me to stay not-hard..."

"Yeah, I see the problem," said Rodney, and his warm hands got busy, sliding the pieces into place, one after another. With a final sounding click, the lock locked, and John looked down to see plastic encasing his dick.

Rodney dipped his head and ran his tongue over the skin exposed by the slit in the plastic. John moaned, but the thing worked. He couldn't get hard at all.

Rodney grinned, as if he could tell what John was feeling, before he sat back and patted his thigh. "Have a seat."

It was awkward, but John sat on his knee and spread his legs at Rodney's urging. Clever fingers traced circuit patterns on his inner thigh, making John moan and squirm.

"Okay. I have some work to do," Rodney finally said. "You're free until, oh, say seven. Then we'll see what comes up." Then he grinned. "Won't be you."

"Ha, ha," said John, but he stood and pulled on his clothes. The jeans bulged at the crotch, but he decided that it wasn't too bad. Then he was outside the suite with nothing much to do and about two hours to do it in.

He decided that he was going to go down and have a beer in the restaurant. He stopped at the front desk to pick up a newspaper, and then waited to be seated.

The young waitress led him to a small table and told him she'd be right back with the Molson. He had just opened the paper to the sports pages when Vince joined him.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, before he planted his ass in it without waiting for an answer. John ignored him, deciding that that was the best way to deal with unwanted interest.

It looked like the Orioles were doing all right. Well, that was good. And the Pirates were losing, as usual. The planet was still on its axis, then.

"So, you look well-fucked," said Vince.

John turned the page on the paper.

"I don't know what you see in him. I'm much cuter."

That got a snort from John. Rodney was a good-looking man, but that didn't really matter anyway. What mattered was how they felt about each other.

Vince reached out and brushed a hand over John's. This wasn't a mission, where allies depended on John not offending. And it wasn't someone who was just playing around. This was an ass who thought that he actually had a chance with John, so to hell with being polite.

"You know what, Vince? Why don't you just get lost? We'll both be a lot happier."

"You should give me a try. I bet I can satisfy you better than that jackass whose collar you're wearing."

John started to laugh. This _boy_ honestly thought that he'd give over Rodney for him? Just because he was _pretty_? "I could give you a long list of reasons that that isn't going to happen, but instead I'm just going to tell you once again to fuck off. If you don't, I'll take the liberty of making you."

He let just a touch of steel through in his voice, the same voice he used on the marines when they'd been exceptionally stupid. Apparently, this kid wasn't quite as thick as he appeared, because he said, "Fine. If you change your mind, you can find me in the club."

"Not going to happen." Vince stood up, and John waved at him. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

It hadn't been hard to tell that kid to bug off, but having the chastity device definitely was a steady reminder that he was Rodney's. And he _liked_ that.

The waitress came over with the beer, and set it down on the table. "Was he bothering you?" she asked.

"Nah, not really. Just a buzzing fly."

"If you're sure. I could get Randy or Parker in here to get him to back off."

John wondered when he'd suddenly started to look fragile and in need of defending, and who Parker was. "Nope. No problem at all."

"Okay," she said and wandered off, leaving John to his newspaper. About six thirty, he placed an order for room service, to arrive in the suite at seven fifteen. He'd long since finished the paper and his beer, so he stared at his watch for the last few minutes before he finally signed the check and went back up to the room.

"Seven already?" said Rodney, looking up from his computer. His hair was all messy, like he'd been running his hands through it in frustration, and when John circled the computer to give him a kiss, he saw multiple documents open.

"Did you get some work done?" he asked, looking curiously at the screen. He could see part of what looked like a paper, but the document on top was clearly a letter to the editor, slamming someone's intelligence and education.

Rodney nodded. "Yeah. Not as much as I planned, but I'm about ready for a break."

"Dinner's on its way up," said John.

"Good. Now take off your clothes and kiss me properly," said Rodney with a smile.

John obeyed, stripping out of his clothes and laying them on the couch before he took a seat on Rodney's knee and started to kiss him. His lips were still tender from earlier, and Rodney's kisses made them feel every bit. When Rodney licked across the seam of John's lips, John willingly opened his mouth and let Rodney in.

With what little brain John had left, he thought that it was fascinating how quickly this had become normal. He could never have imagined that he'd be sitting in Rodney's lap, naked, while he made out with him. Especially with no hope for an orgasm in sight.

Considering how good it all felt, maybe he should have considered it before.

Someone knocked on the door, and John climbed off Rodney's lap, letting him get up to answer. He was gratified to see that Rodney looked just as discombobulated as John felt.

John didn't even wince when the waiter came in. He found that he was getting used to this nudity thing. Of course, it helped that the waiter couldn't really see anything from the angle he was at.

A little worried at how much he was liking all of this, John decided to have a normal dinner – well, as normal as it could be with him naked and locked into a cockcage. So he brought up the letter he'd seen on Rodney's computer earlier.

It worked, too, sending Rodney off into a rant, complete with hands flailing and yelling. It reminded John of being at home, and for a moment he felt such homesickness that he was nearly bent double with it.

Something must have showed on his face, because Rodney stopped ranting to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Just missing home," John said. He expected questions. What he wasn't expected was for Rodney to get serious and nod, clearly agreeing with him.

"I'll count it a win if it's still standing after this stupid vacation," said Rodney. "But Lorne and Zelenka and Teyla are very competent at their jobs. If you tell anyone that I said Zelenka was competent I will deny it!"

John laughed, the mood broken, and said, "Oh, but it's okay to tell Teyla and Lorne?"

"Teyla knows that she's scarily competent," said Rodney. "This would not surprise her. And Lorne wouldn't believe it anyway."

Silently acknowledging the truth of Rodney's words, John nodded and took a bite of his lasagna. It was really good.

By the time they'd worked their way through salads, dinner, and desserts, both of them were stuffed to the gills. John looked at Rodney, looked at the chest on the table, and realized that there was no way he could play right now without being sick.

"Rain check for a few hours?" he asked.

Rodney nodded, clearly just as full. They moved back over the couch, for once not in each other's space, and turned on the TV. This set off a battle for the remote that lasted until Rodney landed on an episode of Doctor Who that neither of them had seen.

Doctor Who led into a discussion of the enemies in various sci fi shows, and how lame most of them were. Rodney pointed out that the Cylons on the new Battlestar Galactica were possibly the scariest because they looked like humans.

Somehow they ended up on the subject of bad seventies and eighties sci-fi, and John managed to crack Rodney up with his imitation of the robot from Buck Rogers. "Go get 'im, Buck!"

By the time they got to the original V series, two hours had passed, and John was feeling a lot more comfortable. He inched across the sofa when Rodney was looking the other way. He was well aware that Rodney was looking away deliberately, but it was still pretty funny. Kind of like the world's slowest game of Red Light, Green Light.

Finally John was plastered up against Rodney's side. "Well, hello there," Rodney said, grinning at him.

"Hi," answered John. He was feeling inexplicably shy, so he didn't say what he was thinking, which was, "Are you ready to play yet?" Instead, he angled his head for a kiss and waited for Rodney to take the hint.

It didn't take long before Rodney's lips, gentle and sure, were back on John's. They made out for a while, until both Rodney and John were moving restlessly. The cage did an excellent job of keeping John from getting hard, but it didn't do a damn thing to keep him from wanting to come.

Finally Rodney pulled back. He leaned forward and flipped the chest open, sorting through it till he came up with a vibrator that was thicker than his own cock. "Go wash this," he said, handing it to John.

Obediently, John went to the bathroom and washed the toy, bringing it back still damp. Rodney had stripped and shifted so he was in the middle of the couch. He patted his lap. "Lie down, boy. Ass in my lap."

It took John a minute to find a position that was comfortable, and he felt horribly exposed. That was part of the appeal, though, so he stayed like that, parting his legs a little in invitation.

He heard Rodney slicking up the vibrator, and then turning it on. Rodney started to run the vibrator down the crack of John's ass, deliberately missing John's hole over and over again, until John was moaning and trying to fuck Rodney's thigh.

Only then did he line up the vibrator with John's entrance and push a little. The tip of it breached John, and he gasped. It was hard plastic, nothing like Rodney at all. He wasn't quite sure that he liked it.

As Rodney worked the toy into him with short strokes, John writhed on his lap. The vibrator was _big_ \- big enough to give John some trouble, and it hurt, even with the lube. But at the same time, it was intense, rattling John's bones and making him moan.

"More?" asked Rodney, and all John could do was nod frantically. He did want more. He wanted it _all_.

Rodney pushed hard on the toy, pushing it in all the way to its flared base. As soon as it was settled, he turned up the vibration, making John cry out. "Fuck, Rodney," he said, squirming. He wasn't sure if he was trying to go towards the sensation or further away.

John could feel Rodney shifting, changing the grip he had on the toy, and then without warning his hand came crashing down on John's ass. Rodney had slapped John's ass back in Atlantis a few times, but never this hard.

This was spanking with intent, and as Rodney spanked him over and over, John realized that he'd never realized how hard Rodney's hands were. Part of that had to do with how tender his ass already was, but more had to do with how hard Rodney was hitting him.

And through it all, the toy buzz, buzz, buzzed away, melting John from the inside out.

The feeling was building in the base of John's spine, like he was getting ready to come. But with his cock caged, he couldn't get hard. His body was getting overwhelmed, confused. Finally, he shook with what felt like an orgasm, but he never got hard, never shot.

Only then did Rodney stop spanking him, turning the vibrator off but leaving it in place. "That's a good boy," he said, stroking John's back.

Breathless, John couldn't answer. But he could try to shift to get closer to Rodney, and so he did.

His ass felt hot, and he was still full. He loved every second of it. When Rodney started to move the vibrator, John found himself clenching down, trying to keep it from sliding out. "No, please," he said.

"Don't worry, John," said Rodney. "We're not done yet." And he wasn't lying. The vibrator slid about halfway out, and then slowly back in. Again and again Rodney did it until John was mindlessly humping his leg, and when Rodney turned it back on he _howled_.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted as Rodney pressed the tip of it against John's prostate and held it there. His cock was making a valiant effort to get hard, but no luck, and he didn't think he was going to be able to take this for long without squirming out of Rodney's grasp.

But Rodney tightened his grip on John's hip and continued to fuck him mercilessly with the toy. "Give it up, boy. Just give in and take it," Rodney said as he continued to move the toy in and out.

John could have struggled, could have gotten free, but he didn't _want_ to. He wanted to stay right here and be a plaything for Rodney's enjoyment.

Eventually, all John could do was lie there as pleasure so intense it was almost pain washed through him, over him. He was moaning steadily, and his hands clenched on the material of the couch.

"That's it, boy," crooned Rodney. John wanted to turn around and look at him, because the only time he heard that tone of voice was when Rodney was working with tech that was doing exactly what it was supposed to. He'd never thought he'd hear that tone of voice aimed at _him_.

Slowly, Rodney slid the vibrator out of John's ass. Shuddering, John tried to focus on the sensation of the couch fabric under his hands, the feel of Rodney's thighs supporting his weight. But coming back down was hard. He'd much rather float.

"How are you feeling?" asked Rodney.

"Good," John answered. "Floaty…"

"I'm sure." Rodney sounded very satisfied, and more than a little horny. "Do you want to play more, or just go lie down?"

A little confused as to why Rodney was bothering to ask, he said, "Play more, of course."

"Can you get off my lap?" Rodney gave John's hip a helpful nudge, and John let himself slide off the couch and onto his knees on the floor. Before he could try to force himself to stand, though, Rodney had run one hand over his cheek, tipping his face up. "I want you to crawl to the bed. Can you do that for me?"

Any other time, John would have stared at Rodney before asking him where he got off. He knew that. But right now, it seemed like a good idea, so he crawled.

It seemed to take forever, but arriving at the side of the bed, he felt good. He felt like he was Rodney's good boy.

"Up on the bed," he said, and when John had climbed up, he noticed that Rodney had brought the vibrator with him. He was a little surprised, because he'd thought that Rodney was going to fuck him now.

Rodney said, "Roll over on your belly and then get up on your knees." It was hard to do, since John's head was still trying to float away, but he eventually managed it.

He watched between his legs as Rodney shifted to kneel behind him, and then he was sliding in, deep enough to take John's breath away. He was exquisitely sensitive after being so thoroughly fucked with the vibrator, and he groaned, long and low.

Rodney had been hard for a long time, and John half expected him to just start fucking. Just because John was locked in a cage was no reason for Rodney to hold back. In fact, it was every reason not to.

But instead, Rodney stopped, deep inside John's body. When Rodney started to trace John's hole where it was stretched around Rodney's cock, John giggled. It was a deeply sexual touch, but it didn't change the fact that it tickled.

He could hear the smile in Rodney's voice when he said, "You like that?"

"Uh huh,' said John.

"We'll see if you like this," and slowly, one of Rodney's fingers slid into John's ass, next to his dick. The two together were about as thick as the dildo, so the stretch wasn't painful. It felt weird, though.

Rodney moved a little, just a slow roll of his hips, and John groaned. "Good," he panted.

He stopped again. "Oh, c'mon," John said. "Would you just fuck me already?"

"Not yet, and if you don't stop trying to give the orders, I'll pull out and jerk off all over your back."

John knew that Rodney couldn't miss the way he shivered. Fuck, that was a hot idea.

Rodney chuckled, sending the vibrations shaking through John. "You like it when I come on you, don't you, boy?"

Nodding, John moaned a little, clenching down around the cock and finger inside his ass.

It was Rodney's turn to moan and shake, and for a moment John thought that he might actually get his way.

But Rodney pulled out about halfway, and slowly worked a second finger into his ass. John couldn't remember ever being so full.

Lowering his face to the bed, he spread his knees a little wider and resettled them, opening himself just a little bit more for Rodney. Rodney's fingers continued to stroke in and out of John's ass, but he still wasn't moving his cock.

The third finger wasn't really a surprise, but it was intense. Pinned in place by Rodney, all John could do was moan and clench. He tried to roll his hips, only to be stopped by Rodney's hand on his hip. "Be still," said Rodney.

John stopped moving, but he couldn't stop panting. He'd never had so much inside him. He felt stretched, and when Rodney pulled his fingers out, it was a relief - for all of three seconds. Then Rodney pulled his cock out, leaving John to feel open and wanting.

He was puzzled when the vibrator started to slide back in. It was no longer enough, especially since Rodney only slid it in a little ways, and didn't Rodney want to fuck him? And then there was pressure against the side of his hole, and he realized what Rodney was trying to do. He bore down, and the head of Rodney's cock pushed through. With a groan that John echoed, he slid in in a rush.

"Fuck," said John, feeling full to bursting. Rodney couldn't _breathe_ without putting pressure on John's prostate, and the little tiny strokes he was making made John shake and clench. One of Rodney's hands lifted, and then the vibrator turned on.

John lowered his head to the bed, raising his hips slightly, offering himself to Rodney for anything Rodney wanted to do. Rodney started to move a little faster, a little deeper. "You're so good, John," said Rodney. "Such a good boy. Gonna shoot soon, fill you with my come. You want that?"

"Oh, please," begged John. "Please, please, please!"

Rodney stopped talking, his hands clenching tight on John's hips, and for a minute the only sound in the room was the _slap_ of skin on skin, and their harsh breathing. Suddenly, Rodney groaned, long and low, and pressed in deep, pressing the vibrator deep as well and making John whimper.

After a long moment, Rodney pulled out, turning the vibrator off and pulling it out as well. He urged John down onto his stomach, and then over onto his side, so that Rodney could just lean forward and kiss him. John moaned into the kiss, still completely turned on.

The cage had done its work, and John hadn't gotten hard, though his cock had made a valiant effort. His hips hunched as he tried to press his plastic-enclosed cock against Rodney's hip, only to stop when Rodney whispered, "Shh," into his mouth. "I know your cock wants to come, but take a deep breath. You wanted to be locked up, and that means feeling like this."

John nodded, sucking in air through his nose and blowing it out in a heavy sigh, and then doing it again. Gradually the urgency faded, leaving an overall sensation of want, but it was bearable. He kissed Rodney and then pulled back so that he could meet Rodney's eyes.

"Okay?" asked Rodney, eyes soft.

"Yeah. I'm good - a little sore, but good."

"I'm sure you're sore. We're going to take a few days off, I think, at least from anything that involves your ass."

"You don't have to do that," said John. "I'm good."

Rodney pressed another kiss to his already tender mouth and said, "You're very good. Which is why I don't want you too sore to move."

John chuckled. Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, "Yes, sir."

Rodney scruffed his hand through John's hair. "Brat," he said affectionately. "I think it's time for bed, this time for both of us."

Caught in the middle of a jaw-cracking yawn, all John could do was nod. A nap did sound good. He twisted over on the other side, and then relaxed as Rodney's arm came up over his waist. That was the last thing he remembered.

***

True to his word, Rodney gave John a break for the next three days. It would have been fine, except that he was still locked in the cage, and couldn't even masturbate. John knew that Rodney was jerking off, but he could hardly object as it had been his idea.

John had been to California before, but never L.A., so it was all new to him. Subtle questioning of Rodney had told John that he'd been to the club before, but he'd never done the sightseeing thing, so they wandered the streets, exploring Rodeo Drive and parts of Sunset Boulevard, Mann's Chinese theatre and the Queen Mary.

He was surprised at how quickly he got used to the cage. It rubbed a little, but for the most part it was just _there_. A cock ring would have been much more intrusive.

When they found Santa Monica Pier, John thought he'd died and gone to heaven - they had a _trapeze school_. He'd always wanted to try it, but had never been able to. He turned pleading eyes on Rodney, who sighed and said, "See if there's space in the next class."

There was, but no matter how much John teased, he couldn't persuade Rodney to join him. So as time for the class rolled around, he left Rodney sitting on a bench with a clear view of the trapezes and went off to join the other nine students.

Two hours later, he rejoined Rodney, exhilarated beyond belief. "So how was it?" Rodney asked with a grin. Clearly he'd been watching and knew just how much fun John had had.

"It was awesome!" It had been. There had been a couple of more advanced students in his class, so they'd actually progressed to basic catches. John had actually _flown through the air without being in a plane!_ He found himself bouncing in place as he told Rodney all about it.

He only slowed when he realized that Rodney was watching him with the same expression that Teyla wore when Rodney got off on a tear - a kind of exasperated affection. That brought his words to a slow stop.

"It's okay, John," said Rodney, leaning forward and kissing him. "I'm glad you had a good time. Are you hungry?"

John was. John was _starving_. They ended up at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, eating peel and eat shrimp and crab legs. For once, they didn't have to send the food back because of lemon - the waitress had actually listened. The food tasted terrific. When the check finally came, John practically pounced on it. "My turn."

"John - "

"No, look, you've insisted on paying for everything so far, but I'm hardly poor. Let me get this, and the rest of the incidental expenses while we're here, okay?"

Rodney studied his face for a long moment, and then pulled his hand back from the check. "All right."

Feeling a little better, John paid happily, and then the two of them took a cab back to the entrance of the Mansion, as John had come to think of it. The taxi couldn't actually come onto the grounds, so they had a nice walk up the driveway, but that was fine. It let them walk off some of the rich food.

When they got back to the room, John muscled his way into Rodney's space, pushing him back to the wall. Dropping to his knees, he reached for Rodney's fly. "I want to blow you. Can I?"

"Like I'm _ever_ going to say no to that," said Rodney. One of his hands ran through John's hair, the other resting on his shoulder as John undid the zipper and pulled out Rodney's cock. Practically drooling in eagerness, he lowered his mouth, licking around the puffy head, dipping into the slit a little bit, before he started to work his way down the shaft.

He only stopped when his nose was buried in Rodney's pubic hair, the head of his cock in John's throat. John swallowed and then sucked as he pulled back.

Rodney's hand tightened in his hair, pulling it hard enough to bring pinpricks of tears to John's eyes. His hips rocked, just a few inches, as if he was warning John.

Then suddenly there were two hands holding his head firmly, and Rodney's hips moving, fucking John's face. John moaned, cock making a valiant attempt to get hard, as Rodney used him for his own pleasure.

He sucked hard, and licked as much as he could, until Rodney's cock swelled thicker and he came deep down John's throat. He pulled back, not releasing the grip he had on John's hair. John was a little surprised when Rodney dropped to his knees. It only lasted a second, because then Rodney was kissing him like he could chase down every bit of flavor in John's mouth.

John moaned into Rodney's mouth, his hands fisted on his thighs so that he wasn't tempted to reach for his cock. It wouldn't help anyway.

Rodney gentled him with long strokes of his hands on John's back until he calmed. The two of them got up off the floor, and Rodney gave John a gentle push towards the bathroom. "Get undressed and cleaned up. We're going to bed."

"Yes, sir," John sighed, but obeyed. Naked, he slid between the covers and watched as Rodney moved around the bathroom. When he climbed into the bed, John didn't even try to resist the urge to shift over so that he was right next to Rodney, his head on Rodney's chest, his leg over Rodney's thighs.

"You're not going to keep me in this cage forever, are you?" asked John, arousal still singing through his veins.

"Don't even tell me that you're not enjoying it," said Rodney.

"Oh, I'm enjoying it. I just enjoy coming too."

"Don't worry about it. I'll let you come soon." Rodney yawned, and kissed the top of John's head. "Sleep now, okay?"

Thinking of flying above the earth, nothing between him and the ground, John slipped into sleep.

The next morning, after breakfast and a run, John returned to the room to find Rodney standing in the middle of the room, looking at him speculatively. Without thinking about it, he stripped out of his clothes. Rodney nodded, and then went back to the bedroom.

Naked and curious, he stood at parade rest, waiting for Rodney to tell him what they were going to do. There were sounds from the bedroom, but he couldn't see what Rodney was doing. He cocked his head, trying to hear better.

Before he could figure it out, Rodney came out and went over to the closet, coming back with hands full of cuffs. John almost objected when Rodney went to his knees in front of him, but his protests dried up before he could voice them when Rodney started to wrap cuffs around his ankles.

"So, I'm going to lock you to the bed, and we're going to try out those needles," said Rodney. "What's your safeword?"

It took John a second to answer, because at the word needles, his mind had completely emptied of thought. The slap to his thigh shocked him out of it. "Um, Atlantis," he said.

"Very good." Rodney lumbered his way back to his feet, and picked up the other two cuffs off the floor. Handing one to John for him to hold, he wrapped the other around John's wrist. Repeating the action on the other arm, Rodney said, "Okay, go."

John headed into the room, only to pull up short at the door. What Rodney had been doing was clear, as there was a sheet spread over the bed, the needles and alcohol wipes set on one nightstand. John stayed there until he felt the warmth of Rodney's body pressed up against his back. "You can safeword, John. There's no shame in that."

He shook his head. How could Rodney get so many things right and then not understand this one? "It's not that I don't want to do this, Rodney. It's that I'm afraid I'll like it too much. It's something I've never dared do with anyone else before."

Rodney's sigh tickled the back of John's neck, and then he kissed John's shoulder. "It's okay to like what we do, John. Otherwise there's no point in doing it. Now, if you don't plan to safeword, I suggest you get on the bed, or do you want a punishment first?"

"No, no punishment," said John, as he hurried over to the bed. "How do you want me?"

"Hands over your head, legs spread," said Rodney. John discovered that Rodney had attached chains to the bed, with hooks that would fasten to the cuffs, and he lined himself under them. Rodney was smiling when he came to fasten John into place.

The bed was large enough that when Rodney chained John's legs into place, he didn't have much give - he could only move an inch or so in each direction, if that much.

Rodney slid open the nightstand and pulled out a black piece of cloth, which he wrapped around John's head, taking away his sight. John's breathing quickened at that, and Rodney set a hand on his chest. "Focus, John. Focus on your breathing. You can do it."

John did the only thing he could do. He contrated, trying to slow his breathing, make it less frightened sounding. Still, when Rodney knelt between his thighs, John jumped a little.

Laughing lightly, Rodney started massaging John's shoulders and chest. "You need to relax, John. Maybe tomorrow I'll arrange for massages for both of us - you certainly could benefit from one."

It felt so good that John forgave Rodney his laughter, as long as he didn't stop. He groaned as Rodney found a particularly tender place on his shoulder, and shifted so that both hands could work on it. When the knot released, it was almost painful in its intensity.

Gradually, Rodney's hands slowed, becoming less about a massage and more about the sensual. When he started dragging his nails over John's chest, John moaned. "Oh, fuck," he said. "Don't stop."

"It's only going to get better," said Rodney, as he scratched over John's nipples, bringing them to a hard point.

With no warning, Rodney pinched one hard enough to make John yelp. John squirmed as far as the cuffs would allow, trying to offer himself up for more.

"Okay, you ready?" Rodney asked, releasing the nipple.

"Yeah," said John. "Give it to me."

Rodney shifted - to reach the needles and alcohol wipes, John assumed - and then there was a tearing sound. The alcohol wipe was cold on John's skin, and he shivered. Then there was a bright flare of pain in his chest, just above his nipple.

Crying out, he arched his back. The pain wasn't big, but it was definitely sharp, and it fluctuated with every breath that John took. Rodney didn't pause or ask if John was okay. He just cleaned another place on John's chest - above the other nipple - and threaded a needle through there, as well.

As needle after needle went in, John found himself growing calmer and quieter with every one. The pain was like nothing John had ever experienced before. It wasn't as intense as being whipped, but it was longer lasting, since Rodney was leaving the needles in place. And it grew with every needle that Rodney added.

Finally, Rodney's hands paused, resting on John's stomach. "What do you think, John?"

John wasn't sure he could articulate it, since his head was floating somewhere above the bed. But he'd been asked a direct question, so he did the best he could. "Floaty," he whispered, his voice sounding far away in his ears.

This time when Rodney laughed, John laughed with him. It was odd. Usually John associated being hurt with sex, but he wasn't particularly aroused - just high on his body chemistry.

Rodney climbed off John, and John whimpered. He was going to float away without Rodney's weight on him, holding him in place. But Rodney shushed him, a hand on his hip. As the bed moved with Rodney, John refocused on his breathing, which hurt with the needles still in place.

He wasn't sure what Rodney was doing at first, and then he realized that he was unlocking the cock cage, sliding the pieces off of John's dick. He hadn't thought that he was turned on, but as Rodney's mouth sank down over his cock, he got hard so fast it hurt.

John gasped when Rodney released his cock, and then moaned as Rodney's clever fingers spread lube over it. After several days of not coming, it was enough to push him to the brink, and the only thing that stopped him from letting go was the tight grip that Rodney had on the base of his cock. "Wouldn't want this over that fast, now would you?" asked Rodney, his voice gentle.

"No," he moaned, not sure where this was going but sure that it was someplace good if he could just hold on. Rodney finished spreading lube on his cock, and then simply rested one hand on John's stomach, just below the spread of needles.

The hand was jerking a little, and there were sounds that John couldn't identify. He was lost in sensation, drowning in it, so when Rodney finally moved, he was slow to react. He thought he could be forgiven as Rodney straddled him and slowly sat back, John's cock sliding inside of him.

His eyes flew open, but all he could see was black. He knew that he was gasping for air, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the hot, tight, wet space his cock was sliding into, oh, so slowly. He whimpered as Rodney settled, his ass cradled by John's hips.

"If you come before I say, I won't let you come again while we're here," Rodney said, but he sounded a little breathless himself.

"O - okay," he said, gritting his teeth in an effort not to just let go as Rodney started to move on him, around him. John could hear the little slick sounds that was Rodney touching himself, and he whined, desperate.

"Not yet, John. Don't come yet," Rodney said, voice tight the way it always got when he was close to coming. A half dozen more strokes, and warm come striped him from navel to chin, as Rodney moaned.

That broke John, who started to beg. "Please, Rodney, please. Need to come so badly, please - "

"Shh, almost there," said Rodney, who leaned forward and tugged the blindfold. "Look at yourself. Go on. See how beautiful you are like this."

Lifting his head, he could see the needles threading the flesh around his nipples, Rodney still on his cock, and he cried out, desperate.

"Now, John. Come now," said Rodney, who lifted up and slammed himself back down to John's hips. That was the last thing that John could take, and he started to come, helpless in the face of an orgasm that tore him to pieces.

When he was aware of himself again, Rodney was still sitting on his hips. "You back with me, John?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I - I think so?" he said, unsure, but wanting to answer Rodney anyway. He was still deep in headspace, but he suspected that Rodney knew that.

Rodney smiled at him, and knelt up. John's cock slid out of him, and they both hissed at the sensation. "I have to take the needles out now," said Rodney, as he knelt on the bed at John's side. "Are you ready for that?"

"I guess," John said.

"Okay. Deep breath in, and let it out slowly," said Rodney, and as John breathed out, he slowly slid the needle out of John's skin. The sensation was distinctly _weird_, though it didn't hurt.

Reminding John to breathe with each removal, Rodney gradually removed the eight needles in John's chest. When he finally removed the last one, John lifted his head again to look down. There were little pinpricks of blood on his chest, but other than that, you couldn't tell that they'd done anything at all.

"I'm going to unchain you," said Rodney. "We both need to shower, and I need to clean those puncture holes." He suited actions to words, and once the chains were undone, said, "Okay, let's hit the shower."

"Nuh, uh," said John, still a little gone and not really caring about what he was saying. "Hold me first."

"What?" Rodney looked a little shocked at the demand, but then smiled. Sliding down on the bed, he curled around John, resting his head on John's shoulder. John wrapped an arm around Rodney and held on tight for a long time.

Eventually he felt a little steadier, and released Rodney, who blinked sleepily at him. "You ready for that shower?"

As John had started to feel pretty gross, he agreed, and the two of them headed off to the bathroom.

Rodney wouldn't let John wash himself at all, lathering his hair and scrubbing his chest. His hands were thorough as he lathered up John's balls and cock, and he even ran a soapy finger down John's ass, cleaning him.

John would have sworn that there was no way he was getting it up again today, but such gentle, methodical touching had a predictable effect on his libido. Rodney wrapped a soapy hand around John's erection, stroking it firmly.

"Am I locking this gorgeous cock back up?" he asked seriously. "I won't make you do it, but I have to admit that I like having that kind of control over you."

Panting, hanging onto the wall for support, John blinked water out of his eyes and tried to think. It was difficult, with Rodney's hand turning his knees to jello. "Yeah, I like it too. But please let me come first," he begged.

"I think that can be arranged," Rodney said, as he sped his hand. "Go ahead, boy. Give it up for me."

The familiar words and the permission to come was a heady combination, and the hand on his cock was doing wicked things. His orgasm wasn't as powerful as the one earlier, a gentle swell instead of a tsunami, but it still felt amazing.

After they dried off, Rodney carefully locked John back into the cock cage. The touching felt good, but after two orgasms so close together, John couldn't have gotten it up with a crane. The two of them meandered back into the bedroom. After Rodney put the collar back on John, they collapsed into the bed, Rodney curled around John, and they fell asleep.

***

John barely moved through the night, and they both slept well into the morning. He stumbled out into the living room to order lunch, as it was too late for breakfast, and Rodney came out not much later, creases on his face from the pillow.

Once the food was there, they both wolfed it down like they hadn't eaten for days. It was only as John started on his dessert that he started to slow down.

As Rodney shoveled cake into his mouth, he mumbled, "So, we're here for two more nights. I'd like to play in public tonight, and then we'll see about tomorrow night."

"All right," said John, a little curious about why Rodney was telling him _now_.

"So, go do what you want for a few hours - hit the gym, go for a run. Just don't leave the premises, and be back by five, okay?"

Finishing up the last bite of food, John shoved back from the table and went into the bedroom to get dressed. Figuring that the gym sounded good, he just pulled on track pants and a t shirt before heading downstairs. The girl behind the desk nodded at him, and he nodded back before he went to the fitness center.

He thought about starting with a run, but decided that he'd been neglecting the weights for far too long. Sitting down on the bench, he started with curls, just nice and easy to get warmed up.

When the door swung open, he didn't even look up, until he heard Vince's voice. "Hello, pretty."

John sighed. He'd really hoped that he'd be able to make it through the next few days without being bugged by this asshole. "The name is John Sheppard," he said mildly

"But you _are_ pretty," insisted Vince.

"I'm also not yours to harass. Just bug off, would you?"

He was aware of how close Vince was, but he was still shocked when the bastard grabbed his arm. Dropping the weight, he sprang to his feet, pulling his arm out of Vince's grasp. "Do you not see the collar, asshole?" he demanded. "Touch me again and I'll flatten you."

"Yeah, right," Vince sneered. "You're a sub and you like being on your knees. Shouldn't matter for who." He tried to grab John's arm again, and this time, John was prepared, shifting out of the way and then coming back with a backhand across the face.

It knocked Vince to the floor, and he looked up, shocked. "You hit me!"

"Damn straight I did. You'd better get out of here before I do more than that."

Slowly, Vince climbed to his feet. "I'm going to have you thrown out of here. I'm a regular and you're not," he spat. "Just who do you think they'll believe?"

Just then, the door to the gym slammed open, and a huge bear of a man walked in. "Parker, he hit me," said Vince.

"As he should have. Do you really think that we don't have video surveillance?" asked Parker. "Get out, and don't come back, Vince. We've had complaints about you before, and this just seals it."

Vince moved slowly, towards the door. "You'll regret this. I'll tell everyone that you kicked a victim of assault out."

"And I own this club, Vince. To quote you, 'Just who do you think they'll believe?' Good luck finding _anyone_ to play with once word gets out that you're not safe, and that apparently consensual doesn't matter either. Now get out before I flatten you for Mister Sheppard."

Vince blanched and scurried out the door. Once he was gone, John turned to face Parker. Holding out his hand, he said, "Thanks."

"No problem. Should have gotten rid of him years ago." Parker took the offered hand and shook it firmly. "Sorry I haven't had time to introduce myself. I'm Robert Parker. I own this establishment."

"I figured that out," said John with a grin.

"Are you going to the club tonight? I plan to be there tonight."

"Yes, my... Rodney told me this morning that we're going to the club tonight." John rubbed the back of his neck.

Parker smiled widely. "Good. I hear the two of you put on quite a show. I'm looking forward to seeing it."

John could feel the blush spread across his face. "Well, I hope you enjoy."

"I'm sure I will. Now, I should let you get back to your workout," Parker said, and slipped out the door.

John sat down on the bench and picked the weight back up. It took him a minute to get back into the flow of things, but before long he was doing curls and counting them out.

After the weights, he ran on the treadmill for an hour, just to pass the time. He really missed Ronon and Atlantis - missed chasing Ronon around the city. Missed Teyla and Torren, He even missed Elizabeth and Carson. But they only had a week of leave left, and only another two nights here. Might as well make the most of them before he went back to Atlantis, especially since he didn't know the next time that Rodney and he would actually get to play like this.

When he couldn't run anymore, he decided to go for a walk around the grounds, since he still had time to kill. He headed outside, pausing as sunlight blinded him. He didn't have his sunglasses, so he stood there for a long moment, blinking it away. Once he could see again, he turned to the right, following the path that ran around the corner of the mansion.

The lawn and bushes were carefully manicured as he walked around, the walkway scattered with old-fashioned wrought iron benches. Curious, he stopped to examine one, only to realize that there were spaces for wrist cuffs to be attached. He thought for a moment about getting Rodney to play out here, but then snorted in amusement. Rodney was better about being outside, but he still had his allergies. Besides, he'd see no reason to exert himself in the heat when they could be playing in air conditioned comfort.

Continuing with his walk, he glanced in some of the windows that he passed. At least, he tried, except that the glass was distorted, not letting him actually see inside.

Finding a huge tree at the back of the house, he sat down on the ground and leaned against the trunk, closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't really sleepy, just content, so he let himself drift, not focusing on any one thing for too long. He only opened his eyes again when he heard voices coming up the path.

Opening them, he saw Tamara and Jenny. They were holding hands and talking softly, and John watched them as they approached. He knew the moment that they spotted him, because Jenny got a wide smile and sped up. "Hi, John!" she said.

"Hi, Jenny, Tamara," he said, not getting up from his seat under the tree.

Jenny bounced forward, dropping into a cross legged position right next to John, while Tamara looked on fondly. "Having a good vacation, John?" asked Tamara, standing behind Jenny and stroking her hair. "I'm a little surprised to see you sitting."

He shifted a little bit, feeling a ghost of the needles in his chest. "Yeah, Rodney doesn't want me unable to sit. We have to go back to work soon."

Tamara nodded knowingly, as Jenny leaned into her hand. She looked completely blissed out, but didn't sound it when she said, "So, I heard that Parker banned Vince? Something about a fight with you?" She gave a full body shudder.

"Uh, yeah." John was surprised that word had gotten out that fast. "He didn't know how to keep his hands to himself."

Jenny nodded. "It wasn't just the boys he went after. He never tried to touch me, but I think he was afraid of Tamara."

John flashed a grin. "I don't blame him!"

"Brat," said Tamara, without heat. "I should tell Rodney to heat your ass."

Snickering, John said, "Well, we're playing in the club tonight."

"Oh, good. We'll see you there, then?" Jenny was pretty much bouncing in place.

"Yep. Well, unless Rodney blindfolds me again."

"Come on, Jenny," said Tamara. "Let's leave John to his meditations."

He couldn't help laughing at that. He doubted that Teyla would consider it meditation. He waved goodbye at the two women and leaned back into the embrace of the tree again, closing his eyes once again.

The sound of someone running up the path made him open his eyes again. He had just that second to recognize Vince before Vince's foot connected with his gut. He grunted in pain, as the air was knocked out of him, but the second time that Vince tried to kick him, he grabbed his foot and twisted, pulling him off balance and knocking him to the ground.

Vince looked completely shocked, and John took advantage of that moment to scramble to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"You little asshole. You got me kicked out of here." Vince was slowly climbing to his feet. John wasn't worried about a fair fight, but he had to admit that he was a little concerned that Vince might have a knife or gun.

"The only person you have to blame for getting kicked out of here is you, Vince," said John. "Of course, you didn't know when you tried to be a pushy fucker that I can _kick your ass_. And Parker isn't here to stop me this time."

Vince didn't say anything. He just charged John with an inarticulate roar, telegraphing with every bit of his body that he was going to try and body slam John. At the last possible second, John stepped out of the way, grabbed the back of Vince's shirt, and helped him along, so that Vince sprawled in the dirt once more.

This time, Vince was a little more cautious about standing back up. The two of them circled a little bit, before Vince tried to throw another punch. John didn't hesitate before he blocked Vince's punch and then returned it, catching the ass right in the face. There was a _crack_ as his nose broke, instantly starting to bleed all over his face. "You really want to keep going, Vince? Only thing you have going for you is your looks, and at the rate you're losing, you won't have those for long."

Vince grabbed John around the chest, trying to force him down to his knees. John resisted. There was only one person that he'd go to his knees for, and Vince wasn't even close to being him. It took a little bit of struggling - Vince was stronger than he looked - before he was free, but once he was, he punched Vince right in the solar plexus.

Vince doubled over, coughing and fighting to catch his breath. John didn't give him a chance, hitting him in the back with his hands clasped together. Vince collapsed into the dirt, and John said, "Are you going to be smart and stay down there, Vince? Or am I going to have to continue to kick your ass?"

John was completely unsurprised when Vince started slowly climbing back to his feet. He didn't wait for him to get there, doing a leg sweep and knocking him right back down. This time he didn't wait, dropping onto Vince's back with all of his weight and wrapped his arm around Vince's throat, pulling back. "Now, I would call this a win for me, and a lose for you. I'm going to let you go, and then I'm going to continue on my walk. _You_ are going to run away like a beaten dog and not come back. Do you understand?"

"Fuck you!"

"Wrong answer." John tightened his arm, cutting off Vince's air. "Let's try this again. Are you going to leave?"

Vince made choking noises, and eventually John relaxed his arms minutely - just enough for Vince to get some air. "Well?" he asked conversationally.

"I'll go," said Vince.

"Thought you'd see it my way," said John. Slowly, watching for any funny moves, he got off Vince's back and stood back, watching dispassionately as Vince climbed back to his feet. He didn't look at John as he started to hobble off. "I hope Parker sees you," John said under his breath. He waited till Vince went around the mansion, and started to walk the opposite direction, but his pleasure in the day was pretty much shot. Besides, his gut hurt where Vince had kicked him, and all he wanted was a shower to get that bastard's blood off him.

Figuring that this was a special circumstance, and that Rodney would forgive him for coming back to the room early, he headed back inside. He hadn't made it three steps into the lobby before the counter clerk was running over to him. "Mister Sheppard! Are you injured?" she asked breathlessly, twisting her hands together.

"No, I'm not. But I need to talk to Parker," he said.

"Of course. Just a moment, sir," she said, running back behind the counter and picking up the desk phone. She spoke quietly for a minute, and then hung up. Before she could say anything, the door to the back room opened, and out came Parker.

"Mister Sheppard. I take it something happened?" he said.

"You could say that. You've got a pest problem on your grounds, Parker."

"Will you follow me?" Parker turned around and walked away. He was clearly a man who was used to being obeyed. John figured that it was habit more than a power trip, so he followed willingly enough. When he got to the back office, Parker was pulling out an impressive first aid kit.

"I'm not hurt," John said. "Blood all came from the pest problem."

"Are you sure?" Parker asked. "Don't be all stoic for show, Mister Sheppard."

"Nah, I'm really okay. Vince isn't, however. I might have messed up his pretty boy looks a bit."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I broke his nose," said John with a certain amount of satisfaction. "Hopefully he learned his lesson this time."

Parker sighed. "I'm sorry that it came to that. Vince is an oily little bastard, and I couldn't ever make anything stick to him, so I'm glad that you helped me get rid of him."

Laughing a little, John said, "It's hardly the first time I've dealt with someone like that. I'm just impressed that you actually tried to take care of the problem."

"Well, you still have my thanks. Is there anything I can do to thank you?" Parker playfully fluttered his eyelashes.

John grinned. "No. Well, yes. Can I use your bathroom to get some of this blood off? Rodney's going to panic as it is when I show up like this. I'd rather not show up blood covered as well."

Parker grinned and opened the door on the back wall, showing off a well appointed bath. "Help yourself."

John went in and washed his hands, arms, and face, getting the worst of the blood off. Rodney would still know that he'd been in a fight, but hopefully he'd let John talk before he tried to call an ambulance. Thanking Parker, he went out of the office and over to the elevator. He was too tired to deal with the stairs.

When he walked into the suite, Rodney said absently from the table, "You're early." Then he looked up and jumped to his feet. "Holy crap, John, what happened?"

John finished stripping, folding his clothes and setting them on the floor, before he met Rodney halfway. Unsurprisingly, Rodney started touching John, checking for broken bones, concussions, everything and anything. John just closed his eyes and told him, in brief, what had happened and that he wasn't injured.

That would have been more impressive if two seconds later, Rodney hadn't pressed on John's stomach and made him wince. Rodney took a good look at it and blanched, not that John could really blame him - there was a footprint right over his stomach where he'd been kicked. "You need to go to the emergency room to check for internal bleeding," he said, already moving towards the phone, only to stop when John grabbed his arm.

"Ronon's done worse, Rodney."

Rodney's mouth showed his unhappiness. "But we're not there, we're _here_. And here, the only marks you're supposed to have are the ones I put on you."

"I'm _fine_, Rodney, just bruised. And I really don't want to spend tonight in the emergency room, okay? I just want a shower, preferably with you, and a nap, so I have enough energy to go play tonight."

"You want to play here, where that asshole _assaulted_ you? Are you crazy?"

"Rodney," John let everything bleed through - his desire, his want, his hope, and his need. It seemed to stop Rodney in his tracks.

"Um, okay. If you're sure," he said, eyes not leaving John's face.

"I'm very, very sure." With that, John let go of Rodney's arm and made his way to the bathroom. From the sounds behind him, Rodney was stripping as he walked, and that made John smile.

By the time he had the collar off and the water set to the right temperature, Rodney was right there, crowding up against him. John let Rodney step in first, before he steeled himself for Rodney's reaction and stepped inside. "I'm sorry," said John, unsure of what else to say.

It made Rodney grab him around the neck and pull him in for a deep kiss. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you kicked that bastard's ass," he said.

John just grinned against Rodney's mouth. "You want to help get me clean?"

"Of course."

There was nothing erotic about the shower at all, but the caring that Rodney showed for each one of John's bruises made him have to catch his breath. His hands were gentle as he lathered soap over John's stomach, and as he cleaned each of John's knuckles, and as he checked to make sure that his pupils were the same size and dilating correctly.

By the time they got out, John was wilting. The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, and it just left tiredness in its wake. He dried off haphazardly and put his collar back on before he moved to the bedroom, where he pretty much collapsed on the bed. Rodney crawled up on the other side and kissed him on the forehead. "Sleep, John. You'll feel better with some rest."

"Sleep with me?" he asked plaintively.

"Um, sure," said Rodney, turning to set the alarm for six, and then curling protectively around John. Knowing that he was safe here in Rodney's arms, he fell asleep.

***

When the alarm went off, John opened his eyes. He had turned over in his sleep, so that Rodney was plastered up against his back, and he squirmed backwards, feeling Rodney's cock between his cheeks. He felt a low thread of arousal, but it was like a banked fire, not a roaring inferno. Stretching, he moved away from Rodney and turned over to face him.

Rodney's eyes were open and he was looking at him with concern. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

John did a quick check, and found that the only place he really hurt was his stomach. "I'm not going to be doing crunches any time soon, but other than that, I'm _fine_. Worrywart."

It was clear that Rodney was still concerned, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he gave John a quick kiss before hopping out of the bed and heading into the bathroom. John lay there, relaxing, as Rodney got cleaned up. When he finished, John took his turn, and then went out to the living room, where Rodney was setting a gym bag on the couch. "Toys for tonight?" John asked casually, hoping that Rodney would tell him what they were doing.

Smiling, Rodney said, "Sit down."

Puzzled, John did as he was told, sitting on the couch. It was strange just how _normal_ it felt to be naked when Rodney was clothed. Rodney's words knocked that thought right out of his head. "I'm planning to cane you tonight."

"Oh, hell, yes," he said. "I want - Rodney, you know I want - "

"I know, I know you want it. But you've never been caned before, right?"

"No," he said, drawing the word out. "But I've never spent eight days as someone's boytoy before, either, and I've managed that okay."

Rodney chuckled. "True. But I want to talk about your safeword again."

"Do we have to?" John knew he was whining. He didn't care. He just wanted to _go_.

The slap wasn't really a surprise, but it still startled John into shutting up. "Yes, we do. Caning can be intense, not just physically but emotionally, and if it gets overwhelming I want your _promise_ that you'll safeword."

Sighing, John said, "I promise," but Rodney continued to glare until John said in a calmer voice, "I promise, Rodney. If it's too much, I'll tell you."

"Okay. I'm going to hold you to that," said Rodney. Then he glanced at his watch and said, "Go get dressed. Track pants, no underwear. Don't worry about looking good, since I'm going to be stripping you soon after we get there."

"Yes, sir," said John, heading to the bedroom. Thankfully, he'd brought more than one pair of track pants, since the ones he'd worn earlier in the day were a mess. Pulling them on, he realized that they were a little too tight, and emphasized the cock cage enough that everyone downstairs were going to be able to see it. Then again, when Rodney stripped him, they'd be able to see it anyway.

He went back out into the living room, where Rodney picked up the gym bag and said, "Let's go."

They took the elevator to the lobby, and then cut through the restaurant to the club. The smell of the food made John realize that he was hungry, but he decided that it was probably better that he wasn't full tonight.

There was a small crowd gathered around the St. Andrew's cross, where Tamara was flogging Jenny, and John realized that no one was looking at him right now anyway. The two of them dropped into a table a little way away, and John couldn't help staring as Tamara expertly turned Jenny's back and ass red.

"Hot, isn't it?" asked Rodney with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah," said John.

"Not as hot as you're going to be."

John couldn't have stopped the blush if he tried. It was still hard to think of himself as hot. Needy, maybe.

Rodney noticed, because Rodney always noticed. "Come here, John," he said, patting his knee. Blushing even harder, John stood and circled the table till he could sit on Rodney's lap. "Relax," he said, running a soothing hand down his side.

Ducking his head, John leaned into the caress. "Trying to," he said.

"Well, try harder." As Rodney continued to pet him, John took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Finally, he felt less like hiding, and he lifted his head out of the crook of Rodney's neck. Tamara had finished with Jenny, and was helping her off the cross. Jenny went to her knees as John watched, and Tamara started cleaning the cross and the flogger, so that the next person would be able to use it.

"You going to put me on the cross again?" asked John hopefully.

"Nope. Thought we'd try something different." Rodney stood, picking up the gym bag, and led his way over to the spanking bench set several feet away from the cross. It was made of wood, with pads for the knees and chest. Rodney smiled a tight little smile as he ran his hand over the chest pad. "I'm going to bind your hands behind your back, but I'm not going to tie you to the bench itself. I want you to stay because you want this, not because I've made it impossible for you to get up."

John shivered. He'd seen people caned before, and he knew that holding still was probably going to be hard as hell - kind of like he would have been, if he didn't have the cage on.

"Take off your pants, John," Rodney said. He wasn't looking at John. Instead he was opening the gym bag and digging around inside of it. "I want you naked and on your knees."

Nervously, John kicked off his shoes, and pushed the pants off. He folded them and set them on a nearby chair before he lowered himself back to his knees. He tried to ignore the soft murmurs around them as people noted the cock cage and the bruise on his stomach. When he failed at that, he stared at the floor, not wanting to look anyone in the face.

He was a little startled when Rodney crouched in front of him, his fingers firm on John's chin, tipping his head up. John met his eyes straight on, and the affection there made him realize that he had no reason to hide. "You okay, John?"

"Peachy," John said with a smirk. Rodney didn't respond. He just smiled and brushed a kiss over John's lips before standing back up.

John focused on his breathing until Rodney came back holding two of the cuffs from the room. "Wrists," he said, and John obediently held his hands out so that Rodney could wrap the leather around them, buckling them snugly. "Stand up," he said, and John pushed himself back to his feet. Rodney took him by the upper arm and guided him over to the bench, fussing as John knelt in place, leaning forward so that his chest was supported. Only then did Rodney pull John's hands around behind him, locking them together.

"Comfortable?" he asked, coming around so that John could see him. "Can you breathe okay?"

John nodded, and then lowered his head back down to the surface of the bench, relaxing as much as he could. Rodney went around behind him, and his hands moved John gently but firmly, encouraging him into a position where he stuck his ass out even farther. "Okay, John, I'm going to start with a warm up, okay? No cane yet, just the flogger."

He nodded again, and added a quiet "Yes, sir," as well.

"Such a good boy," said Rodney, before the flogger fell the first time.

Rodney had meant it about being a warm up - the first few lashes from the flogger didn't do much at all. But as he got into it, the flogger fell with more thud on John's ass, making him groan, his hips thrusting into thin air. Just as John was really starting to enjoy it, Rodney stopped, running his hands over the bare skin of John's ass.

His voice was soft but certain when he said, "I think you're about ready. What do you think?"

John nodded eagerly. He _really_ wanted this.

He heard Rodney moving around behind him, the sounds of people breathing and soft murmurs. It all faded away, though, when the cane pressed against the hot skin of his ass. Rodney lifted it, and then pressed it against him again, and once more, and then there was a whistling sound and a sharp _crack_ that John heard more than he felt for a moment.

Then there was a sharp flare of pain across both cheeks, and he sucked in a huge gulp of air. He let it out slowly, only then realizing that Rodney was waiting for him to recover. He didn't trust his voice, but he nodded. He definitely wanted more.

Rodney pulled back, and then there was another _crack_, just a little bit below the first. This time, Rodney didn't pause to see how John was going to react. He just did it again.

John bit his lip, trying to keep the sounds behind them, but by the time the seventh - or was it the eighth - one hit, he couldn't have stopped the small cries. He was shifting all over the bench, and the only thing that kept his hands from going down to cover his ass were the cuffs.

He was _flying_.

The pain was all twisted up inside, letting John let loose in ways that he hadn't even considered for years. The logical part of his brain was ashamed of his inability to take this without moving, without sound. The rest of him thumped that part into silence thoroughly.

When Rodney left a line of fire across the back of both thighs, John yelled wordlessly. Rodney paused again, and John was vaguely aware that Rodney was waiting to see if he'd safeword. It was tempting. The word "Atlantis" was right there on the tip of his tongue, waiting for John to say, but his own stubbornness wouldn't let him.

He managed to hold out through two more strikes of the cane, and then he found himself whispering it brokenly. Rodney had clearly been listening for it, because he dropped the cane with a clatter and was next to John within a split second. "Shh, we're done," he said, his hand coming up to wipe wetness away from John's face. He didn't say anything about it, letting John tell himself that it was just sweat.

"Sorry, sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry, Rodney."

Rodney crouched down by John's face and said, "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, John. You're _beautiful_."

John blinked moisture out of his eyes, and nodded a little bit. The endorphins were starting to kick in, and he was starting to wonder why he'd safeworded in the first place. Then he shifted, and it reminded him clearly. "Ow," he said, as the welts on his ass pulled. Rodney tried to hide the smile, but he didn't do a very good job of it.

After kissing him briefly, Rodney stood and unhooked the cuffs from each other, and as his arms swung forward, John groaned and knelt up. His head spun, and he laid it back down quickly. Rodney's hand on his back steadied him, and this time when he knelt up, he was able stay up.

Rodney gave him a minute to recover before urging him up off the bench. When Rodney pushed on his shoulder, John went to his knees willingly, though when he sat back on his heels, he hissed. His ass _hurt_ in all sorts of good ways, and John couldn't wait for Rodney to finish cleaning the damn bench. He wanted to get fucked, either out here or in one of the back rooms. He didn't even want to wait long enough to go upstairs.

After what seemed like a short eternity, Rodney came over. Hooking one of his hands under John's arm, he helped him to his feet. John didn't care to stop the whimper at the way that it hurt in all sorts of new ways. As soon as he was steady on his feet, he leaned into Rodney. "Fuck me, now," he said.

"Okay. Let's just get up - "

"No. Take me in the back room and tie me down and fuck me. Please, sir, I _want_ it." John tried his best to look needy.

It apparently worked, if the way that Rodney's mouth moved silently meant anything. Then Rodney let go of John, grabbed the gym bag with the crop and John's clothes and said, "Let's go."

John led the way to the back hallway. Two of the doors were closed, but there was one open and that was all John cared about. As soon as he was inside the room far enough that the door would shut, he dropped to his knees. "Please, sir," he said, trying to get Rodney closer. "Let me suck you?"

"Mmm, yes," said Rodney, unbuckling his belt and pants. His cock was hard, practically jumping through the slit in his boxers. As soon as he was close enough, John opened his mouth and sucked it in as deep as he could go.

The head of Rodney's dick was pushing against the opening of his throat, the shaft pressing his tongue down, and John moaned. It felt so good to be here, on his knees. He swallowed, trying to take more of Rodney's dick.

"Such a good cocksucker," said Rodney. "So hot, so beautiful when I hurt you."

John couldn't nod, not really, but he could groan his agreement. He pulled back, running his tongue over the head of Rodney's dick, dipping into the slit, and listening as Rodney groaned his praises.

When Rodney pulled back, John chased after his dick, wanting to keep it in his mouth, but Rodney asked, "Don't you want to be tied down and fucked, John?"

He wanted that very much, so when Rodney pointed at the bed, John crawled over, feeling each welt pulling on his ass, the cock cage swinging between his legs. When he climbed up on the bed and sprawled on his stomach, he realized that his face was wet again. It didn't matter.

What did matter was Rodney securing the wrist cuffs to the bed so that John's arms were spread. It mattered that Rodney was urging him up on his knees, legs spread. It mattered that he could hear Rodney applying lube to his dick.

The head of Rodney's cock nudged against his hole, and John whimpered. He tried to push back, but he couldn't. All he could do was kneel there, waiting to be impaled on Rodney's cock.

As Rodney started to slide in, John said, "Oh, god, yes."

Rodney chuckled a little. "You know I'm not letting you come tonight, right?"

John had suspected as much, but to have it confirmed just made him wilder to get fucked. He loved knowing that Rodney was using John's body for his pleasure.

He started to move, hard and fast, giving John no quarter. John grunted with each impact of Rodney's hips against his own. When Rodney slapped John on the ass, right over the worst of the welts, John yelped.

"Do you like this, John? Like the way that I hurt you?"

"Uh, huh," said John. He more than liked it. He fucking _loved_[*] it.

"We're going to find a way to do this in Atlantis," said Rodney as his cock pistoned in and out of John's ass. "I love this too much to give it up now."

"Fuck, yeah." He was all for that idea.

Rodney started to lose the rhythm, and John knew that he was close. Squeezing tight, he tried to make Rodney's orgasm as hot as he could. With one last groan, Rodney slumped over John's back, panting and trying to catch his breath.

He whimpered as Rodney pulled out slowly. He was expecting to be untied, maybe held. He wasn't expecting Rodney to slide back, spread John's cheeks, and lick over his hole. "Holy fuck!" he yelled, his head coming up like a startled colt.

He could feel Rodney chuckling against the sensitive skin of his ass as he continued to lick and tongue John. Tied as he was, there was nothing that John could do except kneel there and let him lick his come out of John.

By the time Rodney finished, John was nothing more than a puddle on the bed - one that wanted to be hard so, _so_ badly. His body wanted to come, but John knew that that was part of what he wanted. He wanted the discomfort of not being able to come, of knowing that it was at Rodney's discretion.

When Rodney moved away, John shifted so that he could collapse flat on the bed. Rodney sat next to him, running a soothing hand over John's back and ass until he calmed somewhat. Once he didn't feel quite so much like he was going to shatter, he said, "I'm okay."

"You're better than okay," said Rodney. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

John could feel his face warming to match the heat in his ass. "You, um, you, too," he stammered out.

Rodney laughed a little, and then said, "Let's get you untied, okay? And then we'll go upstairs and I'll put ice on your ass."

At the suggestion of ice, his ass throbbed as if in agreement. "Sounds like a plan to me," he said.

***

The next morning, John was stiff and sore. His ass _ached_ in all the best ways. He thought about going for a run, but then he stretched and decided that it wouldn't be a good idea. Instead he got up, leaving Rodney sleeping, and went to call for breakfast. He tried to sit at the table, but that wasn't happening - the chairs were too hard on his ass. Instead he made himself comfortable on the couch and thought about the night before. It had been _awesome_. He'd known that Rodney was a pretty good top, but the care he'd taken with John after the caning had been just what John had needed.

By the time Rodney stumbled out of the bedroom, blindly searching for coffee, John had eaten and read half the paper. He smiled as Rodney greedily drank down a full mug, before refilling it and coming to sit with John, marginally more awake. "How's your ass today?" he asked.

John shifted on the sofa a little. "Sore, but in a good way, you know?"

"Not surprising." Rodney took another sip of his coffee, eyeing John over the rim of his cup thoughtfully. "How do you feel about the fact that you safeworded?"

John had been doing a good job of repressing that fact. He'd never safeworded before, and had never trusted a top to take him that far. But he'd never been in a relationship with his top, either - they'd all been pick-ups for the night. The fact that he... cared for Rodney made all the difference, he supposed.

"I'm okay with it," he said. "I'm a little embarrassed, though. I've been hurt worse than that."

Rodney chuckled. "You aren't typically asked to kneel there and take it as you're hurt, though. In case you don't remember me saying it last night, you took it _beautifully_."

He couldn't stop the blush that spread across his cheeks. He did remember Rodney saying that, and his reaction last night made him a little uncomfortable. Rodney, being Rodney, didn't seem to realize that he shouldn't say anything about the redness staining his cheeks. Instead Rodney brushed the back of his hand across John's cheek and said, "You know I mean it, don't you?"

Ducking his head, John said, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Good." For a few minutes there was quiet as Rodney finished his coffee and John watched Rodney.

When Rodney set his mug down on the table, John had to mentally shake himself back to alertness. It was very easy to just drift while he was here. "Do you have anything in particular that you want to do on our last night here?" asked Rodney.

John took the time to actually think about the question. He'd had so many fantasies fulfilled over the last few days that he wasn't sure what else there was to want. "I don't know," he said.

"Well, I can't do anything else to the skin of your ass. You need to be able to sit on the airplane in four days, and I don't want you miserable."

"True." John felt a little disappointed. He didn't want to waste their last day at the mansion. Rodney's mouth quirked up, and his eyes lit up, and John realized that he'd gotten an idea. "What?" he asked.

"Nuh, uh," said Rodney. "That would be telling." Rodney glanced at his watch, and said, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. _You_ are going to take a bath. Get _really_ clean and relaxed, okay? If you take less than an hour, I'll just send you back in there."

"Okay," John said, drawing it out. "Then what?"

Rodney leaned forward and gave him a deep kiss. "Then I'm going to see just how full I can make you."

Remembering the sensation of cock plus vibrator, John shivered. Oh, god, he loved the idea. Without thinking, he hit his knees so that Rodney could take off his collar and cuff. "That sounds good. Um, should I shave as well?"

"Yes. Do you need me to take the cock cage off while you do?"  

"Please." Rodney indicated that John should stand, and he did it obediently enough. The feel of Rodney's fingers on his cock as he removed the cage was enough to make him groan in pleasure, his cock getting hard so fast it hurt. "Are you going to let me come tonight?" he asked.

"I haven't decided yet, but if you jerk off, I'll lock you in the cage for the rest our vacation, and not let you come at all."

John couldn't help the whimper or the way that his cock jerked. "You like that idea, don't you?" asked Rodney. "The cage is definitely going back to Atlantis with us. I'll figure out a way for you to wear it."

"Oh, god." John decided that he needed to go, now. If he had to stand there and wait for Rodney to quit talking about locking up his cock, he was going to shoot whether he was allowed or not.

As he hurried off to the bathroom, he heard Rodney say, "Remember, relax."

Relax. Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen when he was hard enough to cut steel.

Shaving was every bit as miserable as he expected. The constant sensation of the razor, plus the way he had to grip his cock to move it as he needed, made sure that he was hard and panting by the time he finished. When he finished, he took some deep breaths, and realized that sitting in warm water was not going to help. Instead, he turned the water to cold and climbed in.

The cold water did what his own will had not been able to do - it got his cock down. Adjusting the water to warm, he set it to come out of the faucet instead of the shower, and knelt on the bathtub floor as the water came in.

When the water was up over his calves, he shifted, hissing as his ass hit the porcelain. It was tender, but the water cushioned him, making it not quite as bad as it could be. He leaned back against the end of the tub and let it fill with water.

He didn't usually take baths - that was more Rodney's thing than his own - but as he floated in the huge tub, he let his mind drift over the events of the last few days. Being caned, being caged, being fucked over and over again had been completely incredible. Next time the IOA insisted on vacations, he was definitely taking them up on it, if it meant that he got to come here with Rodney.

The hot water was definitely making him relax and he closed his eyes, the better to luxuriate in the silky feel of the water against his newly shaved skin. It wasn't intense, but it was pleasurable, and without thinking he reached down to touch his cock, circling it with his hand in a loose hold. He gave himself one slow stroke before forcing himself to let go.

He wasn't trying to think or do. He was just letting himself be. It was kind of nice not having to be the military commander of Atlantis. He just kind of floated for a while, occasionally letting out some water out and adding more hot, but other than that, he just didn't think.

Since he wasn't wearing his watch, and there were no windows, he wasn't sure how long he'd been in there when there was a knock on the door. Rodney opened the door without asking. "It's been a bit over an hour, John. Just thought I'd check that you hadn't slid down the drain."

"No, no drain sliding," said John, pulling the plug on the tub with his toes. "Let me shower and I'll be out in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting," said Rodney as he closed the door.

John turned the water to cool as he showered, soaping himself thoroughly. After the steamy heat of the last hour, the cool water felt good against his overheated body and he just stood under the spray for a while, letting it rain down on him.

When he finally got out, he dried himself off completely, and spent some time trying to get his hair to behave. Giving that up as a bad cause, he went back out to the other room, where Rodney was sitting at the table, working on his computer. After a week, John didn't need to ask. He just knelt at Rodney's side, waiting for attention.

Turning, Rodney put his collar and cuff back on, and then motioned for John to stand so that he could slide the cage into place. After it was locked, he spent a few seconds petting the skin of John's balls, stroking it softly. When he released them, John sunk back down to his knees, waiting for instructions.

Rodney glanced down at him and smiled, and then shifted in his seat so that he could open his pants and pull out his cock. "Between my legs, boy. I want a long, slow, blowjob. Take your time."

John's mouth started to water, and he crawled under the table between Rodney's legs. This wasn't the first time that Rodney had asked for this, and he knew just what Rodney wanted. He started by lipping his way over the head of Rodney's cock, his tongue darting out to taste the slit. Above him, there were the sounds of typing as Rodney answered emails or wrote reports, but John didn't care. What he was doing was much more interesting.

Slowly, bit by bit, he took Rodney's cock into his mouth, sucking it slow and wet. Saliva ran down his chin, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the cock in his mouth. He groaned a little, and from above he heard a pause in the rapid fire typing. One of Rodney's hands came down and brushed through John's hair gently, before he pulled it back and continued to type.

John wanted to kneel there for hours, just mindlessly sucking and licking. His eyes closed, he bobbed his head slowly, swallowing around the head and then letting it slip almost all the way out, before sucking it back in. His jaw was starting to ache, his throat was starting to get sore, but that didn't matter.

He didn't know how long it had been when the typing paused again, and this time both hands came down. They tangled in John's hair, and then tightened into fists, pulling John's hair painfully. Pinpricks of tears stung his eyes, and he moaned.

Rodney started to guide John's head, up and back, over and over again. It gradually got faster, and deeper, and John could taste precome on his tongue. Rodney's hands got even tighter, and he pulled John down so that the head of his cock slipped into John's throat, as he groaned and came. John swallowed it down eagerly, licking Rodney's cock clean after Rodney released his hair.

When Rodney pushed him away lightly, John rested his head against Rodney's knee, breathing deep. Rodney started petting his hair softly, almost absently, as he typed with his other hand, and John realized that Rodney had probably done the same with his cat, once upon a time. It only made sense, since it certainly made John want to purr.

Eventually, John's knees started to hurt, and he nudged at Rodney's hand with his head. "I need to stand," he whispered, not really wanting to spoil the moment, but unable to stay kneeling any longer.

"Okay," said Rodney, and John crawled out from under the table, wincing as he stood. Carefully, he stretched out his quads and hamstrings until he loosened up. When he looked at Rodney, it was to see naked desire clear on his face. Then Rodney shook his head, as if to clear it. "I need to finish this. You go sit on the couch, watch T.V. or something. I'll take care of you in a while."

John had learned that when he let Rodney have his way, things were very good, so he went and settled in on the couch. Flipping on the T.V., he started switching channels, looking for something to watch. There wasn't much, but there was something soothing and familiar about the action itself.

He finally found a baseball game - Twins versus the A's. He didn't care about either team, but at least it was something to watch, and they were in the second inning, so it would take plenty of time. The sounds of typing accompanied the game, but John had long ago learned to tune that out.

Rodney's voice got his attention immediately, though. "Turn that off and come here."

With a slight pang of regret - they were in the bottom of the ninth and it would have been kind of nice to see who won - he switched it off and walked over to Rodney. When he started to go to his knees, though, Rodney stood and gripped him by the arm, holding him up on his feet.

The kiss that Rodney gave him was slow and wet and full of promise. John eagerly returned it, offering Rodney anything he wanted without saying a word.

They kissed for a while, and when they finally stopped, Rodney rested his forehead against John's in a motion that had become second nature to them both. "So, tonight's our last night," Rodney said. "I thought I'd give you the option of playing here or in the club. We're going to figure out ways to actually play in Atlantis, though we can't go as hard there as we did here, so it won't be the last time we get to play. But it will be the last opportunity to play publicly for a while. Which would you like?"

John thought about it. Playing in the club was cool, but, "I'd rather play here, just the two of us," he said.

Rodney smiled. "We can do that." Letting go of his grip on John's arm, Rodney gestured towards the hooks where John had been bound the first day they were there. "Go over there and wait. I'm going to get a few things."

Doing as he was told, he watched with curiosity as Rodney pulled out several floggers in different weights, a large butt plug, and the cuffs. He had to shift it all around several times so that he wouldn't drop anything as he circled the couch.

John went to his knees without being told. He waited as Rodney laid out the various floggers and the plug across the back of the couch, and then he came over and started fastening the cuffs around John's wrists. "Here's what's going to happen," Rodney said. "I want you deep in your headspace before we get to the main event, so I'm going to play with you a while. Don't try to hurry me, because I'm going to take as much time as it takes. Okay?"

That all sounded good, so John nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir," he said enthusiastically.

"Go bend over the couch and spread for me," said Rodney.

John felt his face go hot immediately, but he stood and went over to the couch, bending over the back and reaching back to spread his ass cheeks, presenting his hole for Rodney. The welts on his ass added a twinge of pain to the familiar position, but it wasn't bad at all.

He could feel the warmth of Rodney pressed up against his back, and hear the sound of lube opening. He expected the butt plug right away, but instead he got one of Rodney's fingers, sliding in ever so slowly.

Rodney used just that one finger until John thought that he was going to go mad, and then still longer. By the time Rodney added a second finger, it was all John could do not to beg. Normally he'd beg willingly, but that seemed to fall in the category of hurrying things, and he'd been explicitly warned not to do that.

He couldn't bite back the moan when the fingers slid out, but the cold rubber of the plug pressed against his hole, and then filled him up. John had taken more earlier in the week, but it was still a lot. Rodney rocked the plug a few times, apparently making sure that it was going to stay in place, and then backed away. "Good boy," he said. "You can stand up now."

John did as he was told, feeling the plug shift inside of him. Walking was an experience as he went over to the hook on the wall and lifted his arms so that the cuffs could be attached.

When he turned his head, he could see Rodney wiping his hands off. When he reached towards the couch, though, John closed his eyes. He wanted to be surprised.

At the touch of Rodney's hand on his back, he jumped a little. He wasn't sure when Rodney learned to move so quietly. Rodney just stroked over his shoulders and upper back until John relaxed under the touch. Then his hand moved to John's upper arm and stayed there as the first blow from the flogger landed.

It was clearly the smallest one. It didn't have enough weight to be thuddy. Instead it stung, making John hiss as it struck across his upper back over and over again.

When Rodney stopped and stepped away, John took advantage to take half a step back, pulling him to the limits of his bondage. Lowering his head, he focused on his breathing.

Rodney's hand felt cool against the warm skin of his back as he petted John again. "Relax, boy," he said. "You've got nowhere to be but here, and nothing to do but take it."

John took those words in, letting them wash over him and help him relax more muscles.

The next flogger was heavier, and longer, since Rodney couldn't keep a hand on John as he used it. Rodney was good. He didn't wrap, he didn't hit below the middle of John's back. He just focused on heating the skin of his back and shoulders.

He tried to keep track of how many times Rodney hit him with it, but that proved impossible. All he could do was hang from the wall and breathe.

Every so often, Rodney would pause, switching for a heavier or lighter flogger, so that John could never predict what he was getting next. John loved being flogged, and figured that it could go on all day and he'd be happy.

Eventually, Rodney paused. "Close your legs," he said, and John shifted till his legs were pressed tightly together. Why became clear when Rodney started flogging his thighs. He was grateful, because he certainly wouldn't have wanted to have his balls hit accidentally.

He was lost in the fog of his own head when Rodney finally finished, encouraging him to step forward and unhook his wrists from the hook. John felt as limp as a noodle. He might have fallen if Rodney hadn't tucked his shoulder under John's arm, holding him up.

"Feel good?" asked Rodney, amusement clear in his voice as he helped John walk to the bedroom.

John would have objected, except that he was walking like a damn drunk and he assumed that that was pretty funny looking. Instead he just nodded his head. "Oh, yeah. More, please?"

"I'm going to give you more," promised Rodney. He helped John up on the bed and arranged him on his belly, hands above his head and attached to the headboard, his legs spread wide. John hoped that he looked good to Rodney, that he might get fucked first, before whatever Rodney had planned.

He couldn't ask, though. He wasn't supposed to ask.

When Rodney started to play with the plug, he groaned. "How's your hole, boy? Is it sore?" Rodney asked. "We've been fucking a lot lately."

Direct questions he could answer. "It's a little tender," he admitted. "It feels good, though. I want more."

"Oh, I'm going to give you all you can handle," Rodney said, as he pulled the plug out all of the way. John couldn't stop himself from clenching spasmodically around nothing. He hated feeling so empty like this.

Rodney shifted around behind him, picking something up off the nightstand and the climbing between John's legs, forcing them a little wider.

John could hear the lube being opened, and then Rodney squeezed some directly on his hole. The lube was cool, which pulled John back a little bit.

There was a snapping sound, and then Rodney was touching his hole, pushing the lube in with two fingers. His hand felt funny, and it took John a moment to realize that Rodney was wearing a latex glove. It was strange, since they'd made the decision not to use condoms a long time ago, but it also made sense for clean up. Rodney pressed on his prostate then, and John stopped thinking about gloves.

Rodney pushed in with a third finger, and John closed his eyes, moaning. This was better than a plug - warm flesh and blood, even if it was surrounded by latex. "I'm so glad we came here," said Rodney. "I knew that you'd be beautiful surrendering to me, but the reality is so much better than the fantasy."

John didn't know what to say to that, but Rodney didn't seem to expect a response. "I've never had someone so willing to try things before, so eager. When you go to your knees, I almost come in my pants, just from seeing it."

Rodney's fingers were rhythmically pressing on John's prostate. Pleasure almost more intense than an orgasm washed through John, and he squirmed under Rodney's touch and his words. Trying to lighten the moment a little, he said, "I'd like to see that."

"You probably will, one of these days. Ready for more?" Rodney paused the steady in and out motion.

"Oh, yeah." Rodney pulled his fingers almost all the way out, and then the tips of four fingers started to press inside. At first it didn't seem like much more than three, but as they slid deeper, he could really feel the stretch. He panted a little, trying to force his body to relax.

"Shh, John. We've got hours to do this. It'll happen when it happens," Rodney said. His other hand dropped below John, fondling his balls, and John whimpered. All he could do was lie there as Rodney slid his fingers out, and then back in slowly. Every stroke of Rodney's hand went a little deeper. Finally, John could feel the hard bulge of Rodney's knuckles pressed up against his hole. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly," Rodney said. As John did so, Rodney pressed firmly, and his knuckles slid inside.

Panting, John tried to just take it. It didn't hurt, but he was feeling it in ways he'd never felt before. Rodney had stopped with his knuckles just inside John, but as John' s breathing calmed and slowed, he started to move his fingers. It wasn't Rodney's whole hand; John could feel his thumb, pressed firmly against his perineum. He couldn't help but wonder how much more he could take. Then Rodney started to pull back, and suddenly John didn't care as long as he didn't stop. "Oh, fuck," he groaned. "So good."

"Ready for more?" Rodney asked, and when John nodded, he started to move his hand back and forth, just enough to push the thickest part of his hand through the ring of muscle, over and over. John couldn't help but think that Rodney was making space inside him, for his hand. The very thought turned him on even more.

John whimpered, wanting so badly to come and unable to. When Rodney pulled his fingers out all the way, John cried out and started to beg with a mouth made clumsy with lust and want. "Oh, sir, don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Shh, boy. Just a little more lube," Rodney said, and true to his word, Rodney squirted what felt like half the bottle in John's hole. It was cold, and John squirmed with it.

When Rodney started to slide his fingers back in, it took John a moment to realize that it was his whole hand. Showing patience that John only saw rarely, he worked his hand in a bit at a time. John cried out as he was stretched wider than ever, and then Rodney was inside. "So good, John," he said. "You've got my whole hand. How do you feel?"

Rodney wanted him to _talk_? From Rodney's stillness, it was clear that Rodney expected exactly that. "Uh, full," he tried.

That got rewarded by a chuckle and a flex of Rodney's fingers. "I just bet. Good?"

"Very, very good. More, please?" John begged.

He groaned when Rodney started to move his fist slowly deeper. He could feel each of Rodney's knuckles, the bulge of his thumb pressing against his prostate. John squirmed as much as he could, not sure what it was that he wanted, needed, but knowing that it was _something_. There was a feeling building in his gut, his back. It was a lot like when he was close to coming, but without the feeling of being hard. "Please take the cage off," he pleaded with Rodney.

"Not tonight," Rodney said, implacable. "Focus on what I'm doing, not your cock."

"Oh, god," he whimpered. Rodney continued to fuck him with his fist, slow and steady, as if he had no idea what he was doing to John. Suddenly, he tipped over an edge that he hadn't even known was there, muscles clenching, nerves firing, in a completely dry orgasm, one that was centered in his ass, not his balls. He cried out, shivering, as the spasms wracked him.

Through it all, Rodney continued to move his fist in the same rhythm. He only stopped moving once John stopped shaking. "I'm going to pull out now. Are you ready?"

John didn't want that, but logically he knew that there wasn't much more he could take, so he nodded. He clenched his hands into fists and bit his pillow to keep from begging as Rodney slowly pulled his fist out. It was almost as intense as going in had been, but this had a definable end point. As Rodney's fingers slipped free, John groaned. He'd thought he'd known what being empty felt like. He'd been wrong. _This_ was empty.

There was movement behind him, and the snap of a glove coming off, before Rodney curled around him, petting and rubbing John's skin as he slowly came down. John appreciated the touch, the warm weight beside him, partially on him. It helped ground him, and get him to focus.

When Rodney spoke, his voice was soft. It was like he was trying to not startle John, and John smiled into his pillow. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

John thought about the question. Did Rodney mean physically? Or emotionally? He decided that it didn't matter. The answer was the same either way, and Rodney deserved his complete honesty, no matter how embarrassed he was to say it. "Overwhelmed. Safe. Cared for," he said.

"Good. That's very good. Are you okay? Should I untie you?" asked Rodney.

He didn't really want to be untied, but he could feel the hard bulge of Rodney's erection pressing into his hip, and he wanted to do something about it. "Please?"

He could feel Rodney smile against his shoulder. Then Rodney moved, clever fingers undoing the cuffs holding him to the bed. As soon as he was loose, he twisted to get his hands on Rodney, only to stop with a gasp. Wow, was he _sore_, inside and out. After that moment of reaction, though, he didn't let the discomfort stop him. Circling Rodney's waist with his arms, he tried to manhandle him closer, trying to get his mouth on Rodney's cock.

"Whoa," said Rodney, resisting a little. "You don't have to do anything for me."

"Rodney, shut up and let me blow you," John said, laughing a little. Only Rodney would try to stop John from sucking his cock.

Happily, Rodney stopped struggling and let John shift him. His mouth was already watering as he started sucking. Rodney's taste was even stronger than usual, as if he'd been turned on for a while.

Rodney combed his fingers through John's hair and John moaned. He loved this, loved everything they'd been doing, and he was _incredibly_ grateful that his mouth was full, since it meant that he couldn't blurt out how much he loved Rodney.

Far too soon, Rodney grunted loudly and came in John's mouth. John continued to suck him through the aftershocks. When he finally let go of his cock, Rodney said, "Thank you. For everything."

John's face burst into heat. He couldn't believe that Rodney was thanking him. He forced himself to meet Rodney's eyes as he said, "No, thank _you_." They looked at each other for a moment, and then they both started to laugh. John wasn't sure why Rodney was laughing, but he knew that he felt like a lovesick idiot.

They laughed for a minute, and then calmed. "Let's get into the bed," said Rodney, and John complied. Now that he'd gotten Rodney off, he could feel exhaustion taking over his limbs. There was one important question that he wanted to ask, though. "Promise we'll find a way to play like this at home?"

"Definitely, John," Rodney said, his fingers brushing through John's hair as John drifted off to sleep.

***

The alarm went off far too early, especially since John didn't remember setting it. Rodney made him get up, though, and they set about packing. Most of John's clothes were still clean, as he hadn't worn very many on their vacation, but they were going to have to stop somewhere and wash some of Rodney's so that he'd have enough to get through the rest of their time off.

Reluctantly, John put away the sex toys. He was very disappointed that he couldn't take most of them, especially since he assumed that the things they'd used would be disposed of. As he put things back in the crate, he heard Rodney clear his throat. "Come here, John."

Trained to respond to that voice, he stood immediately and went to Rodney, who went to his knees. There was something fundamentally wrong with Rodney kneeling, but before John could voice his discomfort, Rodney was already fiddling with the cock cage, unlocking it and sliding the pieces off.

It felt... strange. He'd only been wearing it a few days, but the weight had become a solid presence, one that reassured John that he _belonged_ to someone. Losing that was decidedly unsettling. As if he knew what John was thinking, Rodney patted his leg and stood back up. Then he carried the cage over to his suitcase and ostentatiously tucked it inside, along with the two plugs that John hadn't been able to find.

Only then did Rodney look John in the face. "You can't wear it all of the time. It's not safe. But when we're playing? You can bet you'll be wearing it. Other than that, I suppose I'll just have to trust your self control in keeping your hands off your cock." Just like that, with those words, that sense of belonging came back.

They both did final sweeps of the room, finding one of Rodney's journals, a pair of John's socks, but far too soon the call came from the front desk that the limo was waiting to take them to the hotel in LA, where they'd finish out their vacation. As they waited for the elevator, John leaned over and kissed Rodney, trying to convey just how much he felt using only his lips.

The girl behind the counter waved goodbye, and they climbed into the limo. It pulled away from the mansion, and Rodney said softly, "Good vacation?"

John just smiled.


End file.
